Questions of Character
by Jiara Anatalis
Summary: It's been a month since the destruction of the Star Forge, but the Ebon Hawk crew are still battling...this time with themselves and the past. Light Side female Revan KOTOR1. UPDATED WITH CHAPTER 33! Get it while it's hot!
1. Questions of Character Ch 1

It isn't so much the ease of the Dark Side, or the power it promises that keeps you on its path. It is the fear—the delicious exhilarating fear you sense all around you—from those in your command to those in your line of fire. Terrorizing a world of sentients or a roomful made little difference—it was the single encounter that produced the most intoxicating experience…so personal, private…intimate.

So it was now, as wave after delirious wave crashed around me. Fear flowed from Carth Onasi at a dizzying rate. I stared at him without really seeing him. I perceived his slight tremble and labored breathing, his quickened heartbeat. Another pulse of anxiety rippled from him; I savored every drop. His legs buckled, he went to the floor on one knee.

"Please…" I heard his voice as if from a great distance. Another blast engulfed me as I heard him take a deep, rattled breath. "Please, will you marry me?"

I blinked, then blinked again. The room, previously clouded in swirling dark eddies of fear-fed Force, came into focus. I was in a plush hotel room—the presidential suite on Coruscant, a guest of the Senate. Carth knelt before me, his crisp Republic dress uniform cutting sharp angles around his lean athletic frame. "You look very handsome," I said lightly as I tried to gather my wits. "But you do realize the state dinner in our honor is tomorrow night…"

"Don't try to change the subject, Gorgeous" he joked back. A glittering array of ribbons and medals clustered at his chest; enough to serve as armor, I mused. Every star and bar, each commendation and citation…except, curiously, for one. My eyes narrowed as I searched for it. It had to be there, he would have left it behind only if…

"Will you give me the extreme honor," he said purposefully, carefully, "of becoming my wife?" I traced the movement of his arm as he reached out towards me. In his hand, a small box—a Telosian diamond ring. One of that size and quality surely cost him every credit to his name, especially given the gemstone's rarity since the Sith had destroyed…. Guilt and recrimination raced through me. Had he done this same thing with his first wife, the one he lost because….? My expression betrayed my thoughts: I watched Carth's hopeful jubilance erode into pained dejection. He looked down, away from me, and slowly closed the lid around the ring. "It's not enough," he muttered as he stood, still keeping his face from me.

"No, Carth, it is beautiful, really," I stammered quickly, thinking he had misinterpreted my silent dismay. I also found myself somewhat annoyed he thought me so materialistic. "You know those things don't mean…"

"It's not enough to make you forget…"

I sharply turned from him, deeply shamed that I had so easily discounted him and grossly misjudged his meaning.

"I apologize," he continued softly, "I wasn't thinking. I thought…I just…I wanted you to have something to remind you of me, not…." He sighed heavily. "I'm sorry," he whispered as the door closed quietly behind him. A fog of sadness and disappointment encircled me—its taste was most displeasing.

* * *

HK-47 snapped to attention as Carth emerged from the presidential suite.

"Statement: Better luck next time, meatbag."

"Were you eavesdropping, HK?" Carth glowered at the droid.

"Exclamation: Negative! I would never intrude on Master's privacy."

"Then how do you know what was going on in there?"

"Observation: My knowledge of meatbag behavior leads me to conclude that Master has rejected you, again."

"And what behavior is that?"

"Statement: You are here, alone, and you do not seem satisfied by your encounter. Observation: you appear to be a pitiful, pathetic meatbag."

Carth stiffened his slumped shoulders. "I thought I heard her give you specific orders to be…_nice_," he said, drawing out the last word. "You don't want me to tell her your circuits are slipping, do you?"

"Interjection: Negative! This droid is operating in full compliance of the master's distressing directive. Query: Did I not wish you better fortune in the future? Is that not…_nice_…enough?" HK shuddered at the word, gears seemed to strain at the attempt to merely say the letters together. "Supplication: I will now offer another example of social interaction as currently preferred—oh how the mighty have fallen—by Master."

"Oh, this will be rich…" Carth muttered under his breath as the droid scanned him from head to toe.

"Observation: This organic has… 'cleaned up' nicely and looks better than usual…. for a meatbag."

"Well, I guess I'll take what I can get!" Carth said with a chuckle.

"Query: Organic does realize he has prepared himself prematurely. The occasion that requires this garment is scheduled for 28 hours and 17 minutes from now."

"I am well aware the state dinner is tomorrow," he said tersely in clipped words.

"Statement: Very good. I am just trying to be helpful."

Carth glared at the droid, then stormed down the hall.


	2. Questions of Character, Ch 2

Stupid stupid stupid, Carth thought to himself as he blindly made his way around other guests in the hotel. Why hadn't he realized she would react that way, that anything from Telos would reopen old wounds, not signal a happy tomorrow? He rolled the ring box in his hand, the impulse to pitch it growing with each step. He knew she blamed herself for the destruction of Telos, for the loss of his home, the death of his wife…. but he didn't blame her. Even as Darth Revan, she did not issue the order. The attack was a personal message from Saul Karath: it was the price for Carth refusing to join the Sith. No, she was not responsible, not then, certainly not now. Carth tightened his grip around the ring: he hadn't realized her reaction would be one of remorse and disgrace because he didn't see things that way—and he was going to make her understand that. Right now. With these thoughts, he lost track of himself in the hall—as he slammed into someone, the ring knocked free from his grasp.

"Watch it bud…" the gruff voice warned.

"Excuse me," Carth said as he bent over to scoop up the ring. When he stood, he found himself face to face with a burly Mandalorian. "Oh, its you," Carth dismissed.

"Yeah, its me, so what? Why don't you watch where you're going? Bah, who am I kidding, you fly the same way."

"I don't have time to get into it with you Canderous…" Carth began. He tried to side step around the mercenary, who matched his movement and blocked him where he stood.

"Hey, what's with all the spit and polish?" Canderous asked as a trace of confusion flashed in his eyes. "That damned dinner is tomorrow, isn't it?"

"Yes, it's tomorrow," Carth growled through clenched teeth.

"Then why the hell you running around in that monkey-lizard suit now? Less time in it, the better, I say. Hey, what ya got there?" Canderous motioned to Carth's fist.

"Nothing that concerns you," Carth snapped as he slipped the jewelry box into his pocket.

"Ahh…" Canderous smirked as he caught a glimpse of the distinctively shaped container. He then looked past Carth's shoulder, to the direction he had come from. The doors to the presidential suite were there, at the end of the hall. "So, fourth time wasn't the charm either, eh?" he said with a laugh.

"Stow it, Mandalorian!"

"Look at you! Fancy dress and trinkets. What made you think THAT would impress her? These are true honors from battle," he said tracing scars on his arms and cheek. "This is what Revan knows."

"Isn't there," Carth snarled, "a particularly handsome gizka somewhere you'd rather be…".

"_Gentlemen!_" Carth and Canderous felt compelled to turn towards the stern greeting. Bastila was in the hall, approaching them rapidly; so quickly in fact, the door to her suite was still in the process of sealing shut.

"Oh great," Canderous grumbled. "First soldier boy, now the Jedi princess."

"Always a pleasure to see you too, Canderous," she responded coolly. After first calling her spoiled princess back on Dantooine, Canderous addressed her as such from then on. She long since gave up on correcting him as it seemed only to further his amusement. "What are you two bickering about now?"

"Hey, I was minding my own business when the paranoid pilot here came flying down the hall looking like a disturbance in the Force," Canderous snarled. Bastila raised an eyebrow as she turned to Carth.

"I admit I wasn't watching where I was going…" Carth began. "But there was no harm done. Why does everyone make a big deal over everything!"

"Yes, well, I don't think an accidental run-in is worth this fight. Please control your emotions. We have… an _image_ to uphold for the Republic. Now, Carth, you are looking rather formal…Am I mistaken about the dinner being tomorrow?"

Carth drew a deep angry breath and looked up at the ceiling. "It is tomorrow, yes, tomorrow!" he hissed. Canderous let out a howling cackle.

"Captain Courtship was just shot down over Planet Revan…AGAIN!"

"Oh, I see," Bastila said softly in her controlled manner. "This does explain quite a bit," she whispered to herself. She stole a glance behind her, to the droid standing in front of the silent doors at the end of the hall as he unceremoniously waved off a hotel maid. "And I take it things did not go well? I am sorry, Carth, but you must understand—you are asking her for something she is not at liberty to give."

"The Council does not own her!" Carth spat back.

"Now _that_ I can agree to," Canderous boomed. "No one owns she who claims victory in battle over the entire might of the Mandalorian Clan guild. She is her own woman, she is Revan. Not Jedi Revan, or padawan, or knight or anything else: just Revan."

"That was a life ago, she has begun anew as Jiara Anatalis. You must respect that, Canderous," Bastila cautioned.

"She is Revan, and I seem to be the only one willing to respect THAT of her," he growled. "Why does everyone try to deny it? What dishonor is there in being a successful warrior? Her acts as Darth Revan are shameful only because the council decides so. Mandalore would have written songs for her glory in battle. The role of the weak is to serve the strong. As the leader of the Sith, she understood this."

"It doesn't matter to me what she calls herself. Whatever name is fine, just as long…" Carth's voice trailed to silence.

"Just as long as her last name is Onasi?" Canderous teased back. He snorted dismissively. "You go to her asking for Jiara only. You forget, you ignore, she is Revan too. You do not honor a Sith lord with candy and flowers!"

"Oh, do you suggest a box of grenades and some severed heads?"

"Now you're talking!" Canderous said with genuine glee.

"My, my, advice for the lovelorn from a Mandalorian," Bastila said stifling a smile. "I now understand Master Vandar's wisdom when he told me each dawn brings a new wonder to the world."

Carth snickered and tried to hide the smirk slipping across his lips. Canderous shot a sideways glance at him, then fixed his hardened gaze on Bastila. "At least my advice is drawn from _experience_…and I have plenty, would you like to hear more, sister?"

"No, that is quite enough!" she blurted, a hint of pink flushing her cheeks.

"Touched a nerve there, princess?" he flashed his teeth in a wide grin. "You need to loosen up, pull that lightsaber out of your…"

"You will NOT speak to me in this manner!" Bastila's voice was raised in uncharacteristic anger. Carth took a slight step back: while grateful he was no longer the center of attention, this was a dangerous distraction. Everyone seemed bristling for a fight tonight, Carth thought, and these two meant more trouble than most.

"Okay, maybe we should all just settle down…" he offered, but his words were lost.

"Oh, now THERE'S some fire!" Canderous shot back. "Too bad the only time you warm to a man is when you are ready to run him through. Otherwise you could freeze a wampa."

"Do not bait me Ordo," she snapped. "I warn you."

"Or what? This from the ONLY Jedi in history to be held captive by Vulkars. I am quaking!"

"You shall be rewarded for your disrespect!" she thundered. Her hand hung dangerously close to the hilt of her light saber. "Do you forget I have fallen once to the Dark Side? I am told the next time is all the more easier," she sneered.

Carth stepped further back—Bastila had never mentioned her fall without contrition and remorse, which always ended up with her launching into a sermon against the forces of evil. But now she had brandished it with pride, and menace.

"Oh yes, a dark Jedi… for all of a month was it? Sister, I was terrorizing the Outer Rim decades before you were potty-trained. Don't talk to me about dark…."

Carth did not hear the mechanical slide of the door opening behind him, but he felt the even, firm pressure of two hands on his shoulders. Calm washed over him. "Come on in here, son." The smooth yet graveled voice wrapped around Carth, he could hear nothing else. He allowed the hands to guide him backwards though the doorway. After Carth disappeared into his room, Jolee turned to the two left in the hall right at his doorstep.

"You shall know pain!" Bastila shrieked. The rest of the hotel guests had already fled—so much for the Republic's image—but Canderous stood his ground, a wide smile creeping across his face.

"Now this is what I've been waiting for!" he said taking a defensive stance.

"Oh, you two, get a room!" Jolee boomed at them. All the emotion—and color—drained from Bastila at the words. Canderous dropped his fists and turned to see Jolee standing next to him where Carth had been. "You heard me! Git outta here! Take this lover's spat inside somewhere; no one wants to see this! Least of all me; my eyesight is bad enough from age, I don't want to go totally blind!" Bastila's jaw quivered, her eyes widened. Canderous looked back to her, then impulsively twitched an eyebrow and moved his gaze up and down her frame; his mouth parted slightly, the tip of his tongue tracing across his lower lip. Bastila stiffened instantly.

"Gammorean sewer slime!" she huffed and turned back towards her room. Canderous's roaring laughter chased her down the hall. By the time she got to her door, her face was a searing scarlet.

"Feel better now, do you?" Jolee asked. Canderous allowed his laughter to die down as he caught his breath.

"That was worth all the armor on Mandalore!" he nearly giggled.

"What was?" Jolee asked.

"What was…" Canderous tried to think. He looked around. The hallway was empty…no, Jolee was there. "Where'd you come from?" he asked in his usual brusque manner.

"Why, right here from my room; where you headed?" Jolee asked lightly.

"I'm just out for a drink. I hate being here. Damn dinners and ceremonies! Do I look like a hero?" he grumbled. "Man, I feel like kicking someone's ass…. I'm sure someone deserves it at the cantina, wanna join me?"

"No, you go right ahead, I don't want to steal any of your fun! So you just go on and set someone straight…shoo!" Jolee watched Canderous march around the corner and out of sight to the elevator. Once he was sure the Mandalorian was safely away, he slipped back to his room.

Bastila stood in the hall staring blankly at her own hotel room door. She felt the presence of another in her mind…a Force touch. Blurred smudges of memory drifted behind her eyes. Someone had changed her thoughts…but she seemed to know she was better off for it. She suspected Jolee, but when…? She decided to worry about it later. Right now she needed to track the surge in dark energy that had flooded her senses. She thought back, concentrating on how she came to be outside her room…. yes, Carth and Canderous were arguing in the hall, about what, she could not recall…but they were not the source, they had been affected by the malignant power. She turned away from the scene of the spat…and looked directly at HK-47 standing guard at the presidential suite. She broke into a brisk trot towards the doors.


	3. QuestionsCh 3

As stated in my profile, I make no claims to the characters, names, or places depicted in this story. They belong to Lucas Arts, Bioware, Obsidian, and probably others I have no clue about.

* * *

"Acknowledgement: Good afternoon, pleasant traveling companion to the master."

"HK, that was rather gracious; good afternoon to you too," Bastila said as she approached Jiara's suite.

"Statement: Thank-you, organic. Query: Would you mention to the master that I am being…._nice_?" The droid seemed to twitch.

"That I will. I commend your efforts HK," she said with a slight nod.

"Exclamation: Thank-you! This organic is much more agreeable than that meatbag pilot."

"You mean Carth? He was here? When?" Bastila asked with great interest.

"Statement: The annoying human was here sixteen standard minutes ago after a duration of twenty-three minutes with Master…which is twenty two minutes too long, I may point out."

"I see," Bastila commented as her thoughts drifted. The information seemed new to her, but oddly familiar. She tried to piece together if the dark energy she detected coincided with the time Carth spent in Jiara's room, but her missing memory prevented her from making any definite connections. Did something during Carth's visit trigger the disturbance? But that made no sense—Carth would never anger her so. In truth, his behavior towards Jiara had been the very model of courtly romance and virtuous intent. Bastila grudgingly admitted—to herself—that she was jealous of the attention he lavished on her. It was so controlled, so principled…so Jedi-like. "Please step aside, I wish to speak with Jiara," she asked as her thoughts completed their circle in her mind.

"Query: Do you wish to fight with the master too?" HK asked as he stood his ground in front of the comm-link to the suite.

"Did Carth argue with her when he was here?"

"Statement: No, The meatbag pilot was sad, not mad, when he left. He was a very pathetic organic; I almost felt sorry for him."

"Then explain: who else has been here and had a fight?" Bastila asked, sure she was on to the trail of the dark source.

"Explanation: No one. I refer to your confrontation with the Mandalorian here in the hall. Observation: It was a most impressive display, even without bloodshed."

"_MY_ fight…with Canderous…just now?" Bastila was unable to hide her confusion. Is this what was removed from her memory?

"Observation: No need to be modest. If that old meatbag hermit did not interfere, I am sure you would have 'mopped the floor' with the mercenary."

So, it _was_ Jolee who had invaded her mind—and apparently with good reason. She would thank him later, and maybe ask what it was she and Canderous had gotten into…as if there weren't any number of topics to select from. Now she fought back the alarm and disappointment at realizing she had so easily succumbed to the dark energy that had mysteriously collected around them all.

"Observation: I believe my favorite moment was this," HK began. A clicking, then a whirring noise was followed by Bastila's own voice coming from the droid. She stood transfixed as she listened to herself remind Canderous of her fall to the Dark Side, and that a second stumble would be all the more easier. Bastila blanched three shades closer to cadaverous: her voice was fierce and sharp as she reveled in the memory of having fallen, as well as the apparent anticipation of returning, to the shadow.

"Erase that! Erase that at once!" she demanded. "You shall NOT speak of this ever again, do you understand?"

"Statement: Of course, as you wish," HK answered coolly.

"Now stand aside, I wish to consult…" before she could finish, the doors opened. She stepped up to the threshold; as she passed HK, she cautioned sternly "No one, never. Understand?"

"Statement: Of course, organic. And you will not forget to mention how nice I was, will you?" This time the droid did not flinch. Bastila swore she could almost detect a sneer as HK–47 turned away from her and resumed his patrol.

* * *

"I can't remember how I got here," Carth's voice was a mixture of confusion and annoyance. Jolee found Carth standing in the center of the hotel room, doing nothing… just standing there.

"I, uh, invited you in," Jolee stammered.

"You used the Force on me, didn't you; got all in my head."

"Yeah, you got me, son. But it was just a little! Wasn't anything against your will—you are too stubborn and too strong-minded for anything like that. I had to get you away from them."

"It _was_ getting hot out there. I suppose I owe you one…but you COULD have asked." The confusion was gone now, and Carth's voice was growing in steady anger.

"No time to check if you were thinking straight—I had to cool them off quick. Things were getting out of hand. I swear, Bastila was about to give Canderous a beating he, for once, deserved more than usual."

Carth chuckled slightly. "Yeah, what WAS all that?" Jolee motioned towards a small table near the window and they both took a seat.

"Well now, that is what I'd like to find out. And since you're here, I'll start with you."

"Me? You think I had anything to do with that? I was trying to end it out there. You got your facts wrong old man!"

"Now settle down, son. I am not talking about how it ended, I am talking about how it all got started," Jolee said evenly.

"Well, ya lost me there. Is that your version of Jedi-Code-Speak?"

"Just work with me, will ya?" Jolee pleaded.

"Fine, what do you want to know?" Carth spat, tossing up his hands. "Look, I was in the hall, I bumped into the Mandalorian, we had some words, and next thing I knew, Bastila was there ready to give him the deluxe Sith treatment."

"Yes, but what about _before_ that? I see you have your best on…"

"IT'S TOMORROW," Carth grunted through unmoving lips. "For the billionth time, the dinner is tomorrow!"

"I know that! I might be old, but I still know what day it is. Now, sometimes I don't know where I am, but…uh, where was I?"

Carth rolled his eyes. "My _uniform_?" he said petulantly as he gestured to his chest with both hands. Jolee narrowed his gaze.

"You still have some aggression there, Carth. Try to hold it together now."

"You're right, I'm sorry. Its just, I feel so jumpy right now, and everyone seems on edge. What is going on?"

"Now that's what we're working on, son, so stay with me. This whole dress whites with full plating—you weren't just wandering the halls aimlessly, were you? You were over there with Revan."

"Yes, I did stop in to see Jiara," Carth corrected with emphasis on the name.

"Uh-huh, and while you were with Revan," Jolee continued with his own emphasis, "did anything, well, _strange_, happen?"

"No sir, she turned me down again, nothing strange there!" Carth exploded in total frustration. "I don't understand, I mean, when we were out there on the beach, when she came back, she said she loved me…"

Jolee held up his hand. "We all remember that day, too well." His eyes were shut tightly, as if he were trying to squeeze the memory of the sight from them. "I get cavities just thinking about how damned sweet it was." Carth nearly blushed.

"So, what is the problem here? Okay, so maybe asking her to marry me as we were walking off the podium from the medal ceremony was not the right time or place…"

"Coming out of the airlock on Manaan from the 'Great Ancestor' Tribute or whatever that thing was wasn't the best timing on your part either, son. What was that ceremony anyways? Most bizarre thing I have done yet!" Jolee stared off into the past, reliving the three-day event held on the water planet with Revan and the Ebon Hawk crew as the honored guests. "I didn't know fish could do that."

"Yes, well, okay I realized I screwed up, that time too and the next time when we were surveying the damage on Dantooine…"

"Now THAT was the worst one. Carth, what WERE you thinking?"

"I wasn't, I admit it. That woman has my damn head on backwards! But I thought it through this time, I wanted to get it right, so when the ring came this morning…"

"Ring? Ooh, lets see, son, hand it over!" Carth fished the box from his pocket and set it on the table in front of Jolee.

"Well, when it got here, I didn't want to wait. So I got out the dress whites, because she told me she prefers this one over the dress black, and I went to her room where there would be no crowd, no fish, no smoldering ruins…just me and her, the way it should be."

"And then of course she would have been wearing this tomorrow at the dinner, hmmm?" Jolee said picking up the box.

Carth smiled sheepishly. "Well, sure, but that would have been a bonus."

Jolee opened the box, his eyes nearly popping from their sockets as he looked at the ring. "Now that's a rock. What do they pay you in the Republic?"

"Being a hero has some perks to it," Carth chuckled.

"Telosian perfect aqua diamond. Don't get any rarer than this…or bigger! This thing should be in a museum." Jolee held the ring up to the window. Light danced across the stone casting small rainbows around the room.

"Too bad Jiara wasn't as impressed as you," Carth said sadly as he took the ring and gazed into its twinkling blue facets.

"Oh, she was impressed, alright. Just not the way you intended."


	4. QuestionsCh 4

"Jiara, do you sense it…" Bastila began as she entered the darkened room. "Jiara?" I sat quietly, watching. Her silhouette evaporated as the door closed behind her and returned my room to pitch black. I sensed her Force energy reaching out, searching. But I did not want to be found, and I was very capable of hiding from her. Our bond, distasteful to us both, seemed to be gone—severed when she had fallen. Neither of us had tried to reconnect, nor spoke of it again. "Jiara, are you here?" Bastila's voice was serene, as usual, but there was emotion beneath it. Something inside of me couldn't resist—I fed off her apprehension like an addict. Her head reeled towards my direction. Of course she would have detected that, even without a bond.

"I taste your fear," I said flatly. At those words, another small spike emanated from her. It abruptly ceased as her training took over.

"Not fear, concern," she lied. "Why are you sitting in the dark? Lights, fifty percent!" At her command, a hum of energy whined from the bulbs. I moved quickly: as the lights came up, Bastila found me standing nose to nose with her.

"Revan, what are you doing?" she yipped with a jump.

"You called me Revan," I said with a small smile of triumph. I slowly backed away and began to circle around her. My experiment had worked. "You always strive to call me Jiara, but in an unguarded moment, your true feelings are exposed. So I am Revan, because I scared you?" I taunted. She remained calm.

"You will get no more from me," she responded in a short, direct tone. "This is a dangerous game you play Jiara. There is a dark energy here, it has affected everyone out in the hall and it seems to be affecting you."

"_Affecting_ me? I am the Dark Lord, Darth Revan, remember? I AM the evil!"

Bastila studied me. "I believe you are correct This darkness is indeed coming from you."

I was slightly taken aback by her ready admission. "It comes from me because of the fear sent _towards_ me. You have felt it too, haven't you? At every ceremony, each dinner, each delegation, every dignitary's party: all we have been forced to endure this past month…mixed in with the admiration and gratitude, there is anger and dread directed at us. At me."

"It isn't the fear, Jiara, it is your delight in it." Her words shocked me with their simple, shameful truth. At once I let it go, the sensation was suddenly hollow and bitter. I stumbled at the release. I felt her hands, gentle on my arms, as she moved me towards a chair. "Can you tell me what caused this?" she asked quietly, her concern genuine.

"What difference does it make? It happened no matter the cause. I cannot be trusted." Guilt gnawed deep inside my stomach as I thought back to when I first lost myself. How did I, how could I let that happen?

"Do not be quick to blame yourself. There are those out there who wish us harm…"

"No he didn't…" I regretted the words as soon as I heard them escape my lips.

"Whom do you speak of?" she asked as I tried to avoid her stare. I subconsciously crossed my hands, purposely searching along my bare ring finger. "Carth…" she whispered softly.

I closed my eyes as the tears spilled over my lashes. "He was here, so full of happiness, and I crushed him, I…" I took a deep breath. I had to explain, for myself if for no other reason. How did it all turn so quickly? "It wasn't like those off-the-cuff proposals he tried before. He had this planned out. He was here in his finest, looking damn handsome," I made light in between my sniffles. I ran the sleeve of my Jedi robe across my nose. Bastila stiffened with disapproval, which gave me no small measure of joy. "He was nervous, you know, of course he was, and I twisted that somehow. I felt his anxiety, and it touched something in me, something deep and almost forgotten. I craved more of that fear; I was draining it from him…" Bastila trained her gaze on me with practiced calm. "Then he showed me the ring, a Telosian diamond. It brought back everything, why he was even able to be here, proposing to me…. He asked for my hand in marriage. But which hand is this?" I shouted as I thrust my palms out at her. I stared at them; I could almost see the blood dripping from each finger. "Is this the hand that destroyed the Star Forge, or the one that commanded it? This hand served the Republic from both sides. It slaughtered millions before it saved the rest. It ruined planets, colonies, lives…like Telos."

"That blame is not yours!" Bastila yelled. "You are Jiara. You cannot punish yourself for everything the Sith have done."

"I was, I am, Revan. Revan brought the Sith to power. Everything was done by me, or for me in my name. On Taris, you told me I was the catalyst for the events leading up to your rescue from the Vulkars. I was flattered at the thought, but now I see the truth of it; if it was true then, it is also true of me as Revan. Even for the destruction of Taris I received blame from Juhani—it did not matter to her that you and I were the target, that I did not issue the command. How many people made the same leap in logic and blame? So many others have more reason than this to hold me accountable. You call me Jiara, the product of the Jedi, but under it all, I am Revan, and for all I put in motion, all I am responsible for, I must atone."

"Revan died on a starship nearly two years ago at the treacherous hands of her apprentice. You are a new person now, with new accomplishments and responsibilities."

"I am not Jiara just because the Council gave me that name."

"You are Jiara because you picked the name yourself."


	5. QuestionsCh 5

Me?" Carth thundered. "I caused this, this, 'evil cloud' of dark energy that sent us all over the edge? Where do you come up with this stuff?"

Jolee sighed. "I knew you wouldn't understand. No, son, you did not summon this darkness, Revan did, I just think you upset her into doing it."

"I admit I upset her alright, but if I caused her to call up anything, we'd all be jumping out of the windows, not down each other's throats. I didn't make her angry, I just depressed the hell out of her with this ring." Carth flicked at the box on the table.

"I got news for you son—it wasn't just that ring. _You_ depress the hell out of her too."

"Aren't you the stim-pack full of happy thoughts. Anything else you want to beat me for while I'm down?" Carth was exasperated. Jolee rarely made sense to him—but this time Carth knew his words were truer than he wanted them to be.

"Don't get me wrong, son, she cares for you—so much it hurts. This time it hurt us all. Tell me, what do you think she sees in you?"

"You saying I am not good enough for her?" Carth grumbled defensively.

"No, boy, simmer down. All I'm saying is she sees more than the noble heartthrob hero—she sees a man broken by the loss of his family and home. You didn't make that salad," Jolee said pointing to the cluster of honors pinned stiffly to Carth's chest "by sitting on your bunk cleaning your blaster. No, you earned them by putting yourself in front of every weapon the enemy had, didn't you? Volunteered for the worst tours of duty on the frontline. Maybe you were trying to get to Saul; or maybe you were trying to kill your demons by killing yourself."

"I never thought of it that way, but, you're right."

"Son, I have to tell you, even I am impressed by that display. But where's your Star Forge medal?"

"Couldn't find it—wasn't in the box with the rest of these."

"Well, here, borrow mine," Jolee got up and went to the dresser "'cuz you KNOW she will have noticed that one missing, and think the worst about it…. well, hang on." Jolee rummaged through a couple drawers, then shuffled back to the table. "Misplaced mine too. That's how much I think of it. I'm not much on medals; especially all you got yourself there. Makes me aware of just how dangerous you were—to yourself."

"I never planned beyond my next deployment, beyond getting revenge on Saul. I suppose I never expected to make it through. Guess I didn't want to." Carth stared blankly through the window as he admitted this to himself as much as to Jolee.

"Because you had no home, no family…your wife and child gone, taken by the Sith…HER Sith."

"I don't blame her, I've told her over and over, it wasn't her…"

"She blames herself. You haven't convinced her otherwise." Jolee said sadly.

"Look, what am I supposed to say? She didn't attack Telos, she didn't kill my wife, she didn't capture my son. Whatever else she did, it is done, over with, Malak made her pay with his betrayal. I don't care that she was once Darth Revan!"

"She does, she cares a whole lot about it. Without grenades and blasters going off around her and a Star Forge to destroy, she has plenty of time to think these days. Her mind is returned to the Light—she looks back at the actions of Revan and she cannot excuse them." Jolee sighed as his face wrinkled in anger. "Hmmph, it is the Jedi way to beat yourself up for the evil in the world. She can take no comfort in stopping Malak and destroying the Star Forge because as she sees it, she started the whole mess in the first place."

"That is ridiculous! Revan made the Star Forge a weapon of the Sith, Jiara shut it down. That is all I care about."

"You cannot make her past go away by ignoring it, son. You need to see the whole picture the way she does."

"Canderous said almost the same thing out there. He accused me of ignoring the fact that she had been Revan. I don't ignore it, I just…"

"Forget it? Let it go? Make excuses? Same difference. Canderous has accepted her past—I'd say he embraces it, frankly. Know that old saying, 'as crafty as an old Mandalorian'? Well, he is as old as they get, I'd reckon, and you don't survive this long in that many battles being an idiot. I'd take his advice, for once, before he takes it himself."

"What are you getting at?" Carth's eyes narrowed at Jolee. "She loves ME, she said those words to me, not him…" But another conversation came to him, onboard the Ebon Hawk. Canderous was spilling his guts to her, how he had changed….and that he was her man till the end, no matter what. At the time, Carth took this to be a Mandalorian loyalty oath. Or was it really something else?

"Carth, you just don't get it. With that ring, you are trying to start the race at the finish line. That day on the beach was an invitation, not a betrothal. An invitation to love her, to help her the way she helped you. You took four years to deal with your wife's death, and you did it with her help. You can't expect her to get over finding out about her past in four weeks and your only contribution to the cause is to overlook the pain and shame of having been Darth Revan. You refuse to see all she is going through because of that past. You aren't helping her. So she goes to where she thinks she is getting help: have you noticed how she is spending more time with the Mandalorian?"

"I thought she was just trying to get away from Bastila's sermons…are you telling me…"

"Well, she IS trying to get away from Bastila, true enough, don't we all? But also, she can forget about her dark past when she is with Canderous—he gives her no guilt. Actually, she gets a twisted admiration from him. It's like a soothing patch of kolto on her wounded mind. That isn't what she needs, son." Jolee's words stung Carth: it was so clear, so obvious, why didn't he see it?

"I've failed her, like I failed my wife and son. I wasn't looking out for her, I was looking out for myself. I wanted her near me for my own salvation, not hers." Carth kicked the table as he stood up with fury. "She gave me a reason to live, I've given her little in return."

"Slow down Carth, it isn't all that bad! You've given Jiara plenty; you gave her a reason to stay in the Light and reject the temptation back to the shadow; you just need to concentrate on Revan now. She needs to reconcile her two lives, and you need to as well. Just start from the top. If you didn't know any of this, I am sure you don't know a few other things."

"What, are you saying we go on dates? We flew around the galaxy together for nearly a year!"

"In a ship of fools! Lets see, you had a renegade Wookiee, a teenaged Twi'lek, a homicidal droid, a cranky cat-girl, a miserable Mandalorian, a sanctimonious Jedi…"

"Don't forget the cantankerous old coot!"

"Respect your elders, boy. But you get my meaning. Not much privacy on that ship. Let me ask you, what's her favorite color?"

"Uh, I…" Carth stammered. He didn't know, and worse yet, he didn't realize he didn't know.

"Or her favorite song? Her favorite food?" Jolee continued. "Uh-huh, and what about her birthday, when is that?"

"Alright, alright! You can't make me feel any worse than I feel right now."

"Well then, what are you waiting for? Shoo! Go out there and show her a good time, tach-for-brains!" Jolee pressed the ring into his hand and pushed Carth to the door, then out into the hall. "Oh and, uh, you might wanna change those clothes, the dinner is tomorrow, ya know."

The door snapped shut before Carth could say anything. He shook his head and stepped away. Up ahead he saw Mission and Juhani coming from the elevator. They each had innumerable boutique bags, and a service-bot was trailing them laden with even more spoils of shopping. At first he moved to avoid them, but then thought of a better idea: he turned and headed in their direction.

"…okay, so when we get to the room, we'll tell Big Z the ribbons are for his fur and he HAS to wear them for the ceremony!" Mission giggled. Juhani laughed heartily. They had bonded over their childhood memories of Taris and had become fast friends.

"Mission, I want to thank you for taking me with you to the stores. I have never seen so many wonderful things!"

"Oh that was nothing, there are plenty more places to go! Hey, Carth!" Mission greeted him as they met.

"Ladies," he smiled broadly. "Good hunting I see…. Can I ask you something?"

"I paid for it all, I swear!" Mission blurted.

"Whoa kid, I am sure you did! I just want to ask if you two found any place really nice in your travels today."

"Yes, the plaza was wonderful! So many things there to see!" Juhani exclaimed.

"And buy…" Mission added with a grin as she hoisted the bags up. "You looking to go shopping? We are going back out and you can come with us if you want!"

"Uh, not really. So, you think maybe Jiara would like the plaza?"

"Oh, yes, what a wonderful idea, we will take her with us!" Juhani purred. Mission gave her a quick elbow to the side.

"I don't think he wants _us_ to take her," she said out the side of her mouth.

"Huh,..oh, yes, I suppose you are right," she said somewhat disappointed. She stared at Carth. "Aren't you a bit overdressed captain? Is there a function we are missing?"

"Yeah Carth, the dinner is tomorrow, right?" Mission added.

Carth simply closed his eyes and breathed.


	6. Questions Ch 6

Just a quick thank you for stopping by and (hopefully) leaving a review! And of course, this is a fan fic, I own nothing!

* * *

"What? I named myself?" Bastila's assertion that I had selected my own name was unnerving, not to mention confusing as hell.

"Come," she said standing to her full height. "We must seek the Council's wisdom in this matter. They will know of some training to assist you."

"No!" I growled. "They've done enough. Or do you suggest they perform another mind-wipe so I no longer have these thoughts? You realize now that my mind did not change from the Dark Side, it was changed for me. Do you think I am falling back, and I need another round of shock therapy to keep me on the straight and narrow? To do the Council's bidding?"

Bastila slumped, then sunk into the chair beside me. She reached out and took my hands into hers. Her voice was soft and gentle. "Jiara, trust me, please. The Council did not wipe your mind. It was lost; we all reached out to you, but there was nothing. We could not understand the total emptiness. We had hoped to reason with you, to bring you back to the Light, but you were gone."

"How can that be, Bastila? I find it difficult to believe a blast nowhere near my head so completely erased my mind. I mean, I have suffered worse SINCE then." She looked away from me and almost broke her hold on my hands. I gripped back tightly. "What are you not telling me?" I demanded. For the first time ever, I wished our bond was back.

"I have not told this even to the Masters," she whispered. "When I was captured, and Malak," she paused, "Malak was torturing me, he told me something. He gloated about how he had defeated his former master, how clever his plan had been—I suppose it was his way of letting me know I would not win against him. He said that during the bombardment of your ship, he targeted you with a psychic attack. That had been his true plan, to kill your mind, not just your body. He concealed his Force powers in the physical energy that felled you: we never suspected it, nor detected any trace. Like you, we were diverted by the blaster fire, which left us unguarded."

"Why haven't you told the Council about this?" I asked, suspicious of her motives. Was the story even true? It could be another ploy, I thought, to make me forgive and accept the Council's actions. Replacing my thoughts instead of wiping my mind was a better-sounding position.

"Because, the masters believe the trauma is physical in nature, that your mind is damaged and unable to recover on its own. If they knew the damage was Force related, and that you might be able to overcome it one day…"

"They _would_ wipe my mind then, is that what you are saying? Afraid they would lose all the hard work they put into me?"

"Despite what you believe, you were not 'programmed' to obey the Council's wishes. Your body healed, but your mind was blank. You laid there in bed, breathing and blinking, nothing more. The Council decided to give you a life free of your past. There was no need to try you for your crimes—you were no longer in control of the mind that made those decisions. Your punishment had been served, Revan was dead. They began to reconstruct a life for you, based on the Revan they knew, the student and padawan who studied at the academy, the knight who defeated the Mandalorians. I am told you are much like that Revan, headstrong, charismatic and commanding. They gave you old memories, and new ones. You were tested each day to see if the information was forming properly, but we never forced any decisions on you after the initial building blocks were provided. We asked you who you were as progress was made, you answered one day that your name was Jiara. We assumed it is an old family name."

"No," I breathed. So this explained why the name seemed so personal, so right, even after I learned of my past as Revan. Bastila looked at me expectantly, but I said nothing.

"Your reasons are your own," she said with some disappointment. She regained her composure then continued. "As you became more and more aware, a course was agreed upon for you. The council had you placed in the Republic as a decorated soldier. It was decided I would accompany you from a distance to make sure you were adjusting to your new life. I was not to interfere or interact with you in any way. The memories of your recovery and time spent among the Jedi were removed, in order for you to start fresh. You were your own woman, free to do as you pleased. We had no plans for you at all."

"But the Star Forge mission, the training…"

"If you could not remember who you were, how could you remember what you did? The Star Maps and Star Forge were as great a mystery to you as to us. There was no indication that the mind the Council had constructed for you was Force sensitive. There was no way of knowing if your command was gone, or dormant. Knowing now that Malak had invaded your thoughts…well, it was only a matter of time before your Force sensitivity was reawakened. I assume the crash landing on Taris brought that forward sooner rather than later."

"So they took me in for training to avoid another fall," I mumbled to myself. Master Vrook's words came back to me, with a haunting new meaning 'What if we train this one, and the dark lord returns?' I felt sick at the remembrance.

"Yes, and when your visions of the star maps presented themselves, we acted upon the opportunity the Force had given us."

I knew she spoke the truth. Or at least I ached to believe it. But I was still living a lie. Everything I had done these past few months was not my chosen path. I was not born to do these things; I was made to do them. Made to believe it was all my will. But it felt like my choice, each and every time. As Revan, I chose the Dark, as Jiara I walked in the Light. Which one was I? "Bastila, were you ever going to tell me? That I was Revan?" I asked at last.

"It was not my place. I was instructed by the Council…"

"That's no answer," I snapped, cutting her off with a scowl. She seemed unmoved by my outburst.

"No, I suppose it isn't," she sighed. "Let me ask you this. If I did not remember my fall, that I served Malak and used my battle meditation against the Republic, that I had tempted you to return with me to rule the Sith again, would you remind me of it?"

The anger left me. I had never thought of it that way. I did not hold her fall against her. She was tortured into submission, and she _chose _to return to the light. "That is different, you are not me," I stuttered.

"It is exactly the same, and I can see by your expression you would not have told me. You would have protected me from that shame, allowed me a spotless future to continue my Jedi training that I so love." There was a pain in her voice, a pain I understood and was far too familiar with. The Council may have awarded her forgiveness, but she held it from herself.

"You tell me not to punish myself. I think you should heed those words too."

"It is, whether it is right, or wrong. It just is. And I go on with what this has made of me, what I have become. Whoever you sort yourself out to be, you must go on with it. And who is to say which path is right for you? I hope you stay this course: I admire all that you have done since joining with you on Taris. I cannot thank you enough for saving me, both, I admit, from those bloody Vulkars, and from myself on the Star Forge. I have made peace with myself, but you have a ways to travel. May the Force be with you on that journey, as will I."

"I suppose I do need a conscience," I said with a small laugh. "Since the Star Forge, I cannot seem to do anything right."

"You are referring to that lovesick pilot, aren't you?"

I blushed. "Am I so easy to figure out? You know, Bastila, you should try it."

"Try what?" she eyed me suspiciously.

"You know, having a friend—well, more than a friend," I smiled. "Fighting for what is right, maintaining that ideal is a noble goal. But it is so much easier when you have a name, a face, a voice to fight for. Letting yourself down is a simple weakness, but when you have a responsibility to another, you stay strong; you have a reason to fight the darkness. I could not let Carth down that day at the temple…" My thoughts got ahead of me, and I stopped instantly when I saw where I was heading. Bastila looked away, but I could feel her sadness…her loneliness. Even with our bond severed, I could tell her thoughts—she had fallen because she had no one to keep her strong, to defy the dark side's call. She took a deep breath, then turned back to me, a steeled resolve in her eyes. I braced myself for the lecture.

"The Council frowns on such attachments, I try to keep myself above such things. What if the one you lean on for support falters? Doing good for the sake of good will never disappoint."

"What I had to do on the Star Forge was for the sake of good. Malak was my friend, Bastila; that I could not save him was more than a disappointment," I said looking down as I struggled against the tears. "If, in the end, he had believed in me more than the Dark Side…I did not want to kill Malak, but you two were just on the other side of the door; knowing Malak would have harmed Carth if I allowed him to live," I sighed and shuddered at the thought. "Caring for Carth gave me the strength to do what had to be done."

"You make a compelling case, but surely it cannot always bring such peace of mind to be dependent on another," she said more to convince herself.

"I admit there were times I did want to strangle him!" I joked, but she did not share my smile. "I enjoy Carth's company, to a point," I sighed. "…and then everything just stops. I mean, well, there has been nothing _physical_. Nothing. On the Star Forge, before we left the Hawk, he squeezed my shoulder, wished me luck and told me to stay strong. That was IT. And even that seemed a struggle for him."

"He is a noble man," Bastila said stiffly. "He did not want to overstep his place."

"Spare me!" I snorted. "We are heading for certain death and he can do no more than that? He was not ready, then or now," I sighed.

"He has proposed to you four times, I think this shows…"

"He is holding back, Bastila, I can sense it in him. He goes through the motions, but he still has yet to even hold my hand, let alone anything else," I grumbled. Bastila's cheeks colored as she considered my words. "He hovers around me, like the old saying, the moth to the flame: attracted, unable to leave, but unable to touch. He has come so far from the person he was, the man I met on Taris, but there is still a wall, one last barrier he clings to that separates him from me. I cannot seem to break it down, he seems unwilling to lower that defense."

"You know what it is, don't you?" she intoned sadly.

"Of course, how could I not know?" I said with a slight edge of anger. "Maybe if I was just Jiara, not 'the Dark Lord-formerly-known-as-Revan' maybe it would be easier. But I doubt it." I took a deep breath and paused. "I am a moth too, I suppose. I want to be with him, and the time spent along side him is so peaceful…until I think about the life he had, before…. The guilt I have for that single loss of life, a woman I never knew, seems greater than everything else I did. And thinking about that makes me feel even worse. I do not deserve him, I deserve the solitary life of the Jedi, that is my penance."

"Being a Jedi and following the Order is NOT penance!" Bastila yelped.

"Yes it is, and you know it," I laughed, and she joined me this time, the tension had been lifted. "I find myself more and more in Canderous's company. I feel no guilt or regret with him…and no fear. That is refreshing."

"He holds for you great respect for defeating him in the war. I have been told he was actually _pleased_ to learn you were Revan. That is most disturbing." Bastila said with a shiver.

"Yes, and he has called me by that name ever since. From him I do not mind, for some reason. I guess it is because with him, Revan is not the monster everyone else knows."

"Running from the problem does not make it go away," she cautioned. A chirp sounded over the comm-link at the door. I stood and began to make my way over to answer it.

"No, but it makes ME go away, and sometimes, that is all that is required."


	7. Questions Ch 7

"Impertinent, inconsiderate," Bastila grumbled "not to mention ill-advised!" The last words were punctuated by an angry twist at the sash as she fastened it around her house robe. She marched across the room from her bed towards the erratic staccato of the chirping comm-link. "Yes?" she hissed.

"Bastila, open up!" Carth's voice buzzed back. She pushed a button—Carth rushed through the doorway. His face was haggard and worried.

"Carth, it is the middle of the night!" Bastila mewled.

"And Jiara isn't back." He raked his hand through his hair; for a moment the two unruly locks that hung over his eye fell into formation, then slowly, stubbornly slid forward again. "HK said she hasn't returned, and even he is getting anxious."

"Have you called Canderous?"

"I've been hailing them both all night, no answer. I can't believe you let her leave with him!" Carth gestured wildly as he paced the room.

"I am not her keeper. When Canderous came to her door this afternoon, it was her decision to go with him. But you are right to worry—they have been gone far too long."

"When they did not return by sun down, I went searching—no one saw her. I checked every cantina within walking distance, and believe me, there are plenty here."

"Let me try the comm…knowing Canderous, he was ignoring your call," she said matter-of-factly. She picked up her personal comm-link and activated it. "No answer from Jiara," she said after a pause. "Now let's try the Mandalorian…"

"Make it good!" Canderous growled through the link. Surprise and relief washed over Carth's face. It quickly dissolved into anger.

"We've been trying to reach you all night," Bastila responded.

"I turned off my link. Damn Onasi kept beeping me every five minutes." Carth scowled at the communicator. "Timer must have reset, otherwise it'd still be off."

"Where have you been?"

"I've been… _busy_. Anything else?" he snapped back. His already thin patience was stretched to its limit.

"Where are you now, Canderous?"

"It's the middle of the night! Where do you think I am? I'm in my room!" he thundered back.

Bastila looked up barely in time to see Carth disappear through the doorway. She raced after him, frantically pressing on the comm. "Jolee," she yelled into the device "Jolee, get out here! We have a situation!" Carth was already at Canderous's room, banging furiously on the door, by the time Bastila caught up to him.

"Open up Mandalorian, before I blast my way in!" he yelled, not bothering with the comm-link. The door slid open to reveal a half-asleep—and half naked—Canderous. "Where is she?" Carth demanded.

"What…" Canderous growled back. "What's it to you?"

"Don't play games, where is…" Carth looked beyond Canderous's shoulder into the room. In the dim light from the hall, he caught a glimpse of a shape on the bed; there wrapped in the sheets was a small form with all the right curves in all the right places. "Damn you!" Carth muttered under his breath. He took a wild swing and landed a solid punch to Canderous's midsection. Instantly Canderous reacted; Carth dodged the left jab and went high with a left of his own, connecting hard with Canderous's chin. Canderous took advantage of the opening and delivered a devastating right uppercut into Carth's rib cage. There was a sickening snap: Carth doubled over, then rushed Canderous head first, grappling him to the ground. They fell to the floor a tangled mass of flying fists.

"Boys! BOYS! Carth, stop…Canderous, control yourself!" Bastila rushed towards them, then stopped cold as she too saw the shape in the sheets. "Oh…..dear," she breathed.

"What in the name of the Force is going on in here!" Jolee blustered as he arrived behind Bastila. "Alright, break it up," he commanded. The fighters ignored him. Carth smashed his fist into Canderous's nose as he received a solid punch just under the eye. "I said, break…it…UP!" Jolee held out his hand: the two suddenly separated and were roughly pushed apart. They landed across the room from each other with a heavy thud. Bastila knelt beside Carth.

"I believe I heard your ribs break. Where does it hurt?" she asked as she surveyed the damage. Carth's eye was already swollen shut while scrapes and bruises painted an angry map across his skin.

"Everywhere! It was like punching a Sandcrawler," he groaned looking at his bruised and swollen knuckles.

"Well, you certainly look like you were run over by one. We can't leave you like this—I'll see what I can do." Bastila closed her eyes in concentration. "Hold still," she instructed as she placed her hands over him. Carth winced as he felt his ribs begin to knit.

"Thanks for the concern, princess," Canderous shot from across the room. Jolee offered his hand out and helped the Mandalorian to his feet.

"Need a heal there?" Jolee offered. "That nose looks broken…"

"Naw, my implant is already on it," he said as he wiped blood from his lip with the back of his hand. "A worthy fight, I actually felt a couple of those hits. But, as much as I love a good knock-down drag-out, what the hell was this about?"

"Don't play dumb, sonny," Jolee's anger was clear. He pointed towards the bed at the form hiding beneath the covers. "Come on out missy," he demanded. The sheets slowly lowered around a green and brown-skinned Twi'lek woman. "What the…!" Jolee gasped.

"That's not Jiara!" Carth blurted.

"You thought…I bedded _Revan_?" For the first time ever that anyone could remember, Canderous looked shocked.

"Can I go now?" the Twi'lek whined.

"Yes girl, go on, shoo," Jolee said waving his hand while averting his eyes. She grabbed her clothes and shuffled to the door, the sheets clutched around her.

"Sure know how to show a girl a good time, Canderous," she huffed as she brushed past him. "Hmmph!" she added with an exaggerated head-tail snap. Bastila stared at the woman with consternation.

"Aren't you…"

"Lena?" Mission, Juhani and Zaalbar crowded in the doorway.

"Bastila, Jolee…what is all this commotion so late at night?" Juhani asked, her eyes scanning the room. Zaalbar let out a soft rumble.

"No way, it IS you!" Mission shouted. "Yuck!" Utterly mortified, Lena pushed her way past Mission and ran down the hall, the bed sheets trailing. Zaalbar roared after her.

"Don't waste your breath Big Z, she doesn't understand Wookiee. How did that space skank end up here?" Zaalbar mumbled a low howl. "What!" Mission spun around and looked directly at Canderous. Her cheeks blushed to a royal purple. "Oh GROSS!"

"Okay, show's over. Everybody outta my room NOW!" Canderous commanded. All that got him was everyone's undivided attention as they remained still.

"I owe you an apology," Carth began as he gingerly got up off the floor. Bastila's Force healing had done its work; evidence of the fight remained only as faded pink scars of new skin tracing his cheekbones and eye. But he was still sore, and he knew he would be for a while.

"This was honor," Canderous interrupted. "You thought I took your woman; I expect nothing less for such a charge. Had you accused me, then done nothing, I would have killed you where you stood. If it were true or not: if you do not defend your honor, you do not deserve to breathe, let alone deserve one such as Revan."

"Men," Bastila muttered. "Now that this is settled, would you care to tell us where Jiara is?"

"How would I know?" Canderous griped. "I haven't seen her since we got here this morning."

"But I saw you…" Bastila returned quickly. "I was with her in her room, you came to the door…"

"Wasn't me sister. I got tired of looking at these four walls so I went out for a drink. Lots of cantinas around here."

"That's true, Bastila, I saw him in the hall, watched him go… alone," Jolee insisted. "You sure it was Canderous at Revan's door?"

"I am certain. Not only did I see him, but Jiara told me she was going with him. She did not say where."

"I went out by myself. I wasn't much for company this afternoon," Canderous growled.

"That sure changed by this evening…" Mission snorted. Juhani giggled openly and even Bastila could not hide her smirk.

"Damn right," Canderous boasted shamelessly. Bastila rolled her eyes in disgust.

"This is getting us nowhere—we still don't know where Jiara is," Carth reminded. "I just wanna know where she is."

"We all do sonny. I am getting a bad feeling about this," Jolee muttered.

"A moment, Jolee, in the hall," Bastila motioned towards the door. Carth began to follow, but Bastila stopped him. "This is a matter for Jedi," she said coolly.

"Don't leave me out of the loop on this Bastila, Jedi rules be damned!" She did not answer him as she continued quickly from the room.

Once outside and the door was closed, Bastila pulled Jolee even further down the hall. "I know you used the Force to alter my thoughts, to make me forget the fight I had with him," Bastila whispered as she nervously watched around her.

"Really? Damn, I must be losing my touch," Jolee grumped.

"I only know of the fight, not what was said. HK told me."

"You don't want to know…" Jolee offered.

"From what I have heard, you are correct, I do not want to know. That is not why I asked you out here: I assume you also removed the Mandalorian's memory of the encounter?"

"Of course…ah, I see where you are headed with this. I watched him go alone to the elevator right after I cleared his mind of your shouting match. He did not go to Jiara's room."

"Could he have doubled back?"

"Even if he did, why can't he remember?"

"Maybe you used too much Force on him?"

"He is strong-willed, I had to use quite a bit, I admit, just to remove those few minutes. But you know Force persuade does not work that way, Bastila—you cannot affect future memories. He cannot recall being with her this afternoon because someone else removed those thoughts. Or, he is covering for her."

"I do not sense any deception in him. He is completely convinced he has not seen her since we landed on Coruscant this morning. Do you think Jiara cleared his mind? I am surprised she would do such a thing, given her own past with altered memories, but she would be strong enough to affect him if she chose."

"Good way to get a head start. She is under constant watch by the Council and that damned droid of hers. If she wanted to get away, this was a pretty good plan."

"She _was_ greatly troubled when I saw her. You no doubt felt the darkness…"

"Did you find out why she unleashed it?" Jolee asked with as much curiosity as concern.

"You knew it was her too, didn't you? She was feeding on the fear and anxiety Carth had from proposing to her. She had slipped alarmingly far into the shadow. I tried to help her, but she was deeply ashamed and upset. I can understand her wishing to be alone. She told me she felt she could not be trusted." Bastila thought back to the conversation, a tiny gasp escaping from her as she remembered Jiara's words. "She said being with Canderous made her go away, disappear…"

"Well, it seems we have reached a dead-end. If she wants to be alone to sort things out, we wont find her. She covered her tracks well. Poor Canderous, Force persuaded twice in one day!" Jolee snickered.

"I wonder if I could retrieve the lost information…" Bastila pondered.

"You do not want to go fishing in that man's head. Let's keep that as a last option. You know he won't sit still for it anyway, especially from you," Jolee chuckled. "If he knew anyone was messing in his mind, we'd have a massacre…"

"You are right, I never should have even considered it. I will seek the Council immediately and inform them. They may have some insight." She turned to leave.

"Good luck," he called after her.

"Oh, you'll need it more than I," she said as she hurried to her room.

"What…?" The door to Canderous's room opened and Mission burst forth. Raucous squabbling and random Wookiee howls filled the hall around her.

"You guys better get in here quick, they're at it again!" Mission said breathlessly, then turned back to the doorway. "Hold him, Big Z!…Ooh, that's gonna leave a mark…" she cringed as she rushed into the room.

"I'm too damned old for this…" Jolee sighed as he headed towards the ruckus.


	8. Questions Ch 8

"There she is!" Mission shouted as she pointed to a figure in the doorway. The rest of the group gathered around her and looked in the direction she aimed. Bastila sighed; she was not surprised to see the crew of the Ebon Hawk waiting for her outside the Jedi temple, but she had hoped for a little more time to collect her thoughts and frame the Council's news in the best possible light.

"Was Jiara there?" Juhani asked as Bastila reached them.

"No, she has not sought them this night," Bastila replied sadly.

"Course not," Canderous snorted. "Revan isn't exactly cozy with the Council these days."

"What did they say?" Carth asked eagerly. "You weren't in there all that long."

Bastila took a slow deep breath and looked down at the ground. "The Council will do nothing, yet." She almost flinched at her own words.

"What?" they said in near unison. Zaalbar's howl echoed longer, but it was Carth's voice that stood out from the rest. His anger, frustration and anguish sliced through the night air.

"I suspected they didn't really care about her, but what about their stupid dinner tomorrow? Aren't they worried that the star of their propaganda puppet show is missing?"

"The Council feels Jiara will not abandon her obligation. They trust she will be there tomorrow. Until then, she has chosen to be alone, and they will honor her decision and not impose on her privacy and solitude."

"That's just a fancy way of saying 'lets wait and see.' In other words, the usual," Jolee groused.

"Is that the ONLY plan in the Jedi strategy guide? No matter the situation, it's always sit back and watch what happens, then pass judgment!" Carth yelled.

"That way they don't get their hands dirty," Canderous said hotly. "They seek glory without risk."

"They seek to serve the Force, Canderous," Bastila's voice was low, emotionless. "They,…I…we are merely instruments of its will. They seek balance, not glory."

"Kath crap!" Canderous spat back. "Then why all these damn ceremonies and dinners? I've seen more Jedi this past month than I have my entire life. If they wanted to avoid the glare of the spotlight, standing next to us is a poor choice of a hiding place."

"He's right," Mission added. "They crowd in for the holocron portraits, but ya know, they barely talk to me at all, and I am a part of this team too! And they flat out ignore Zaalbar!" The Wookiee's roar was deafening. "Doesn't matter, Big Z…you are a hero too, we all pitched in together. We all should get respect."

"Mission speaks the truth," Juhani said softly. "I am accustomed to being ignored, but even I noticed we are pushed aside until we are needed to make them look good. They claim to honor us with these ceremonies, but they are on stage more than we."

"These are dangerous thoughts, Juhani," Bastila cautioned.

"Because they are true?" Jolee shot back. "Canderous has their number alright: take credit when things go right, deny responsibility when it all falls apart. Oh sure, they were all happy with Revan when she won the Mandalorian Wars, held her and Malak up as models of the Jedi Order, even though they had acted alone. But when they returned as Sith, well, the Council could not distance themselves further from the pair. Made sure to point out at every opportunity that they had gone to the war against the Council's wishes."

"They got all they will from me," Canderous announced. "If Revan is not returned for the dinner, I will not be there either."

"Me neither," Jolee added with gusto. "I am done being their old fool."

"The food is always terrible anyways," Mission dismissed.

"Hey, you all sound like she is never coming back!" Carth said with alarm. "I am not going to sit around waiting to see if Jiara decides to go to dinner or not. I am going back out there to look for her."

"If she wishes to be alone…" Bastila began.

"Then I will ask her about it when I find her. Have you stopped to consider this may not be a self-imposed exile?"

"There is no proof otherwise…"

"There is no evidence either way. She is gone, I am going to find her. Anyone else?"

"Count me in!" Mission offered instantly. "And Big Z too. He takes that life debt thing seriously," she said as an explanation of Zaalbar's howl.

"I shall search with Mission, I may be able to sense Jiara within the Force," Juhani added.

"Cantinas are a good a place as any to ask questions," Canderous said. "And I know how to get answers."

"Good idea, Canderous," Carth said as he raised his personal comm-link. "HK, report," he said into the device.

"Acknowledgement," crackled back though the comm. "Statement: The master has not returned. Query: What are you going to do about this, meatbag?"

"We're gonna go get her, HK. Tell T3 to stand guard at her room, and meet me in the hotel lobby; we will go searching together. I can use your scanner to detect her life pattern, and your charm to get information."

"Ready!" was the enthusiastic reply.

"You know I will be looking, if for no other reason, than to defy the Council," Jolee huffed.

"It is unwise to go against the council's wishes," Bastila automatically replied in a cold, detached manner.

"So you will not help, Bastila?" Carth asked with disbelief in his voice. "We, _she_, did not give up on you when Malak held you prisoner, but you return the favor by abandoning her so easily?"

Bastila looked away from his accusing stare. She bit her lower lip as she thought about her last conversation with Jiara. Bastila had only tried to help when she revealed Malak's secret plan of attack that left Revan a thoughtless shell of a being. But what if it was this information that drove Jiara away, maybe to seek a method of reconnecting with her lost identity? If she were to reawaken Revan, would Jiara be lost forever? No, Bastila thought, she cannot bring back the Dark Lord. If Jiara fell, then what hope did Bastila have for resisting a similar fate?

"Where do you want me to look?" she asked.


	9. Questions Ch 9

The crew sat in stony silence staring out the windows of the transport limo. It was difficult to tell which of them was the most disgruntled, but Carth was certainly the most disgusted and disillusioned. Their overnight search was interrupted barely after it had begun. He and the others were rounded up by contingents of Jedi, Republic soldiers and local law enforcement officers, then escorted back to their hotel rooms, where armed guards stood watch over them…for protection of course was the official reason. Now they were on their way to the state dinner cocktail reception, a smaller gathering of dignitaries before the main event.

"Okay, here's the plan…" Carth began as the Coruscant capital building loomed in the distance.

"Who named you second in command?" Canderous growled.

"Yeah, you're not the boss of me. Your plans stink like rancor poo-doo!" Mission yelled.

"Fair enough then. I'm open to suggestions. What do we do?"

"Suggestion: I say we eviscerate every meatbag in our way out the door."

"I'm with the droid on that one," Canderous said with a sour tone.

"Now there's a plan, why didn't I think of that?" Carth mocked.

"Why didn't you do something last night, when they came for us and locked us up? I'm no criminal, I am supposed to be a hero!" Mission wailed.

"I was given orders…" Carth said weakly.

"And you followed them, like a good little soldier," Juhani hissed. "You are so quick to tell Bastila to disobey the Council, but you instantly lie down like a neutered gizka for the Republic." Heat blazed in Carth's cheeks. He never expected a dressing down from Juhani, especially one so damningly accurate.

"What's your plan, son," Jolee sighed with indifference.

"Never mind," he mumbled and resumed his stare out the window.

"That's the best one yet, Onasi!" Canderous snorted.

"Well, we aren't just going to do nothing, are we?" Bastila pined. "They took our weapons, but we can still use the Force…"

"To do what? Embarrass a few senators by tripping them and blowing up their robes?" Jolee grumbled.

"That's a start," Mission said. "Lets just break out of here and run, whaddya say Big Z?" Zaalbar roared in agreement. Juhani winced as his breath washed over her. "Sorry," Mission offered.

"These doors are sealed Mission, we can't get out," Bastila said listlessly.

"Give it a try, Zaalbar, there isn't a door yet you can't knock in!" With that, the Wookiee began pounding on the window. It did not budge, even though the entire limo shook and moved slightly off course. "Wow, what's that window made of?" Mission said with genuine awe.

"This is an armored transport limo, designed to protect the occupants, " Carth explained. "Resistant to blaster fire, laser weaponry, frag grenades, pretty much any type of munitions. Nothing gets in—or out—of these unless you want them to."

"Be careful back there," a voice floated through the limo on the comm from the driver. "We are almost there."

"They obviously know we want no part in this, they have taken several precautions," Bastila said looking around. "I think we may need to take some ourselves," she said, an idea forming.

"What do you suggest?" Jolee asked, an eyebrow raised. Bastila on the offensive was an interesting development. Even Canderous took note.

"Yeah, princess, what's on your mind?" he asked, cracking his knuckles.

"Did you see the number of Jedi in this entourage? I think they are going to 'convince' us to cooperate."

"Use the Force to make us play nice?" Carth asked with surprise.

"Two can play at that game," Bastila said with defiance. "Jolee, Juhani, how does a little cover sound? I think between the three of us, we can shield the whole group."

"Ah, Immunity…" Juhani smiled as realization settled on her. "Yes, we are strong enough, but I have never attempted it on non-Jedi before. Are you sure it will work?"

"Damn fine idea, Bastila. That's using your head girl!" Jolee sat upright, a broad grin across his lips. "We'll need to stick close together."

"And it will not last all night," Bastila added.

"Slow down here, what are you guys talking about?" Carth asked warily.

"Yeah, you guys aren't messing with my head, are you?" Canderous seemed more than a little concerned.

"Immunity is a meditation technique," Juhani explained. "It increases your resistance to unwanted influence from the Force."

"So they wont be able to make us dance then?" Carth asked.

"It may or may not work on all of us, but it is a chance worth taking. Immunity is difficult to detect; as a defensive meditation, it releases no outward signature. They will not suspect it, and I hope not use excessive persuasion on us," Bastila continued.

"I am betting that is the only function for all these Jedi," Jolee looked around at the extensive autocade stretching before and after their transport. "With luck, they wont stick around once they figure they have us under control."

"That is my hope as well," Bastila breathed. "Now, everyone, follow my instructions carefully. I will go first, Juhani in the middle, and Jolee at the back; everyone else fill in between us. Stay close together, we cannot extend the aura very far, nor hold it for very long. Appear to be pleased at attending the party, as this will undoubtedly be their goal. If they believe we have been persuaded, they will cease their efforts, and hopefully leave."

"And then we will be able to bust out!" Mission exclaimed with understanding. "Now that's a plan!"

"Well, I haven't heard anything better," Canderous glanced over at Carth. "So I guess that's what we'll do."

"Query: May I crack heads on the way out then?"

"Knock yourself out, HK," Carth intoned. Everyone stared at him with astonishment. "What?" he said with a shrug. "They deserve it."

* * *

"Another big group just left," Mission half-whispered to Bastila and Juhani. She turned back to the window and took a step closer. "That only leaves about three two-man transports around our limo."

"I believe that is the last of them, then," Juhani added. "I was able to overhear that senator over there tell the guard captain to secure the route and prepare the dining hall."

"Good. That took longer than I wanted, and I have no energy left," Bastila said surveying the crowd. They stood in the corner of a ridiculously large and opulent ballroom, its size accentuated by the small gathering of dignitaries roaming the vast floor. Bastila was completely drained of her Force energy, as was Juhani. Jolee lasted only slightly longer, but he too could hold the Immunity no more. "Did we lose anyone?"

"Just Canderous," Carth said with a grin as he thumbed over his shoulder. The Mandalorian was smiling and hovering dangerously close to a very attractive Alderaan diplomat. "I know he likes that basilisk war-droid story of his, but that's the third time he's told it already."

"Are you sure? This is Canderous we're talking about here…I mean, _look_ at her…" Jolee said with great appreciation. Bastila's sour scowl went unnoticed.

"I saw her alright…she was playing me pretty close, but I think she finally got the hint after I mentioned Jiara for the fourth time in the same sentence," Carth said casually. Women approaching him were a simple fact of life for Carth and he knew how to handle the situation.

"Hmmph, she didn't hit on me…" Jolee complained as both he and Carth continued to stare at the Alderaan woman.

"You know, since Lena last night, I suddenly realized Canderous never leaves these parties alone. Is he trying to rebuild Clan Ordo one spaceport at a time or something?" Mission's sarcasm was impossible to miss.

"Uh, well, clearly his behavior," Jolee cleared his throat and fumbled for words "makes all us guys look, uh, really bad." He nudged Carth.

"Yeah, yeah, he sure does," Carth added absently. Bastila was about to commend them, but she saw them watching Canderous, and not with expressions of reproach…more like jealousy? No, admiration. Bastila hauled back and delivered twin punches to Carth and Jolee in the arm.

"Even rutting kath hounds eventually take a break!" she scolded as she landed her jabs.

"Yow!" Jolee yelped and impulsively rubbed the lump forming just under his shoulder.

"Hey, what'd I do?" Carth asked with true confusion.

"Are all guys like this?" Mission asked.

"YES!" Juhani and Bastila answered in perfect unison. "Consider this a lesson learned, Mission, and be grateful it came to you so early in life," Bastila sniffed.

"Can I join the Jedi Order like you two so I don't have to deal with men, ever?" Mission pleaded. Bastila stiffened and Juhani's fur rose slightly. Carth's lip quivered and Jolee's face had twisted into an abstract painting. They quickly turned away and doubled over with laughter.

"You two are SO lucky I have no Force energy left…" Bastila warned "But I shall not forget this…"

"Hey, what did I miss over here?" Canderous asked as he joined them.

"We are just discussing how to best get out of here, are you ready?" Bastila strained to maintain control.

"Yeah, I cased the place and there are some service doors back by those curtains," he nodded his head to the left. "I say we split up, mingle and one at a time make it out those doors."

"Good. Everyone out in 30 minutes, no more. HK you first, you will be missed the least."

"Acknowledgement!" With that, the droid began to move away. As Bastila predicted, no one noticed his movements.

"Next, Mission, Juhani, Zaalbar, Canderous, Jolee, Carth, and I will go last," Bastila explained. Everyone nodded in agreement and started to splinter away into the small crowd. Mission picked her way around the room slowly. She glanced every so often at HK: the droid had easily and quickly positioned himself near the doors. Not two steps later, he was gone. Mission picked up her pace; she could not wait to get out of there.

"Miss Vao? I am so glad to finally meet you!" The Alderaan woman had neatly stepped directly into Mission's path.

"Oh, uh, really?" Mission said nervously. What she wouldn't have done for her stealth emitter.

"Of course! A hero of the Star Forge, the honor is all mine!" she gushed. "So tell me, how did a young woman such as yourself get involved in this dangerous assignment?" Her voice was smooth, and cold, like a frozen pond. She linked her arm with Mission's and spun her around, back towards the middle of the room.

"Just lucky that way," Mission said lightly as she looked around for help. She spotted Zaalbar first—someone who looked official had cornered him as well. Carth too was stuck…and Bastila, Canderous, Juhani…something was wrong, Mission thought. She caught Jolee's eye—he gave her a concerned stare as a green Twi'lek man in flowing robes caught him near the refreshment table. "Do you know where the ladies' room is? I'd like to freshen up," Mission said hastily.

"Really, dear, you look fine," the woman cooed as she continued to usher Mission, now more forcefully, to the center of the dance floor. Juhani was already there with her escort, as was Carth.

"Okay, now, no need to make a fuss, really," Carth's voice was a poor attempt at light-hearted banter. "We were just doing our jobs, we had an assignment, that's all…"

"Nonsense, we insist!" the green Twi'Lek said as he moved Jolee roughly into position near Canderous. Jolee glanced behind him, and saw the Sith pistol pressed firmly into the small of the Mandalorian's back.

"Good, the gang's all here," the Alderaan woman snickered as Bastila and Zaalbar were pushed together with the rest. "The show's about to start," she grinned "And it will leave you speechless!" Mission felt a searing shock cascade through her body: she could not move, but she could still see and hear everything around her. In her periphery vision, she could tell her comrades were likewise held in stasis. They were all positioned to stare directly at the main ballroom entrance.

"We do apologize for taking so long," the woman continued, "but we had to wait for all your Jedi friends to leave. It wont be long now…"

The sounds of a scuffle could be heard through the massive doors. Some of the party guests began to take notice. Bastila detected the distinct buzz of a lightsaber sparking to life…then another, followed by an agonizing scream. The doors burst open: a platoon of Sith soldiers flooded into the room brandishing their rifles. Gasps and screams echoed in the ballroom. Close behind the soldiers, a contingent of masked dark Jedi moved in. Streams of light twisted and arched from their fingers, reaching out across the crowd. Guests dropped to the floor, or became eerily still. The only sound was a soldier calling the all-clear signal. Brisk steps clacked and clicked on the polished floor from the hall. The Jedi parted and a hooded figure emerged.

"Ah, what a lovely party! I must thank the Republic for this warm welcome-back reception!" the hooded figure cackled. The voice was oddly familiar to Carth. He strained to break free of the stasis, but he felt a renewed burst pulse through him. The Force around him seemed to squeeze even tighter and he could barely breathe. "I am sure some of you here know me," the hooded Jedi continued, "but for the rest of you, an introduction is in order." Slender ashen hands lifted away the hood. A purple Twi'Lek woman with intricate tattoos along her forehead and head-tails stood before the crowd.


	10. Questions Ch 10

The Twi'lek moved with great flourish as she slowly paced in front of the Ebon Hawk crew. Her eyes were wild with triumph, a malicious grin danced on her lips. She raised her head in practiced ease to speak to the entire room. "Some of you may be wondering how I came to be here today, a Sith master. I assure you, it was not easy, but I did have assistance along the way. My first teacher was the Order… yes, the self-righteous Jedi Council you all so stupidly admire. They taught me the way of the Force, or so they said. They hid the truth from me, as they hide it from you now. The Force is not some benevolent power of harmony and peace: it is a feral chaos seeking destruction. The Jedi rein that strength, twist it to their purpose. But we Sith understand the true nature of this power, we unleash it in all its glory and direct it towards its goal. Why do you think so many Jedi leave to follow this path? They call us fallen, but we are truly ascended."

"You always loved to hear yourself talk, didn't you, Yuthura?" Jolee growled at her. He had broken free of the stasis, but the false diplomat guarding him grabbed his arms. A trooper trained his weapon at the old Jedi, which caused Jolee to cease his struggle. The Twi'lek reeled around, her eyes narrowed on him.

"Jolee Bindo, you understand the best, don't you? Your own wife, Nayama, was a great Sith warrior with Exar Kun. You trained her yourself, did you not? A most excellent pupil, you must have been so proud to see her slaughter so many." Jolee's anger boiled within him, but he was not given the chance to react or respond. Yuthura thrust her palm at Jolee and his breath caught in his throat; his lungs began to burn. She slowly lifted her arm, and Jolee followed, his feet leaving the ground heels first. She hung him high above the crowd just long enough, then tightened her hand into a fist. Jolee's frenzied efforts to breathe suddenly ceased, his body became limp. She slammed her hand downward; Jolee crumpled to the floor violently. She then shocked his motionless body. "That is for interrupting me, how very rude."

Mission wanted to scream, it echoed in her mind but never made it to her lips. Jolee landed just outside her line of vision: she could not tell if he were…she didn't want to think about that. She heard nothing from his direction; the silence was maddening. She could see Bastila, wavering slightly. Canderous too seemed to be making small movements. She wasn't the only one to notice. Flashes of lightning coiled around them all. Mission felt the jolt in her heart. She felt as if she would faint, but she could not fall down. And she could not close her eyes. Yuthura looked up from her handiwork, smiling that sickening, perverse smile.

"Now, where was I? Ah yes…. After I left the Order, I found myself at the Sith Academy, naturally. I had become apprentice to the Sith headmaster, and in such a position, I had my pick of the crop from hopeful prospects to train. And some months ago, there was quite a prospect at our door. I claimed her as my apprentice at once; I could sense her dark power. It was intoxicating to be so close to such strength. With her able and willing assistance, we completed thee ultimate Sith rite of passage: we struck down my former teacher and I assumed his mantle. And so, the apprentice became the master."

Carth was sick to his stomach. He knew she was referring to Jiara. She was there on Republic business, finding a Star Map, but that would be left out of the story, of course. He had accompanied her on Korriban; she was able to sneak him into the academy by claiming he was her slave, which forced him to call her master all the while there. She had teased him afterwards: _'I like it when you talk to me that way, Carth.' _The memory of her voice briefly lent him joy. His thoughts then wandered to Dustil; finding him there in the dorms was a sweet pain. The reunion wasn't what Carth had hoped for, but at least he now knew his son was alive, and safe—maybe. He had not heard from his son since Korriban. Dustil wanted to sort things out—he was so hurt and furious at life, at his father. Jiara had tried to help calm his anger by showing Dustil the truth of the Sith. Not this junk Yuthura was spouting, Carth thought. What was she going on about? Yuthura's speech drifted back to Carth.

"….it was at that moment, I knew there was a greater destiny for me," Yuthura continued. "Our mighty empire was in disarray, I thought to send a signal, a message to our brethren. So we assembled a small team; we have been here on Coruscant for some time, plotting revenge on those who laid us so low." Her heated stare at the crew lingered. "Our original plans…well, now I see they were so modest, for we have more than we ever had hoped!" Her laughter peeled through the ballroom. "With Malak gone, the Sith cried out for a new leader, one who could gather our scattered forces, return our glory. Many attempted to seize the title, but only one may claim it. Do you presume that I have assumed myself as the new Dark Lord?" Yuthura chuckled. "Oh no, dear children, the rite of passage is completed again: the apprentice is now the master once more." Yuthura bowed deeply as she turned to face the doorway. A figure, small in stature, but large in presence, seemed to glide into the room. The black and grey robes floated gracefully around the slender figure. The dark Jedi also bowed low, making the hooded one appear to grow taller. Yuthura regained her full height. "All hail Darth Revan!" she called loudly. The Sith began to chant, Revan's name reverberated in the ballroom.

"_Nooo!"_ Carth broke the spell, his anguished voice rising above the chant. As if in response, the figure lowered the hood: Jiara's face was there, staring back at him. A cruel gaze fixed on Carth as she reached to her chest. There was the Star Forge medal, pinned to her robe. She yanked at it, ripping it away from its fastening. With a laugh, she flung it at his feet.

"Master!" HK-47 ran from the back of the room. Revan looked up with alarm as Yuthura sent a wave of energy at the droid, sending it skidding backwards in a heap. She looked back to Revan, and they nodded in unison. Revan lifted the hood over her head and floated back down the hall. The dark Jedi quickly filed through the door behind her. Yuthura motioned to the false diplomats. They administered a final shock to the crowd as they moved to join their comrades. The last thing Carth could remember was Yuthura's laughter burning in his ears as he fell forward, slamming hard to the floor. As darkness closed around him, he stared at Jiara's medal, mere inches from his face.


	11. Questions Ch 11

I was lost, in more ways than one. Since leaving the hotel, I had lost track of time, lost track of myself. Now I could see nothing, feel nothing. Nothing…darkness was all around me. It felt as if it were seeping into me, trying to reach the shadow in my soul. Or was it my darkness escaping outward? I tried to find something to hold my thoughts away from this. I would not give in. I tried to think of the Jedi Code, but the words were hollow. I needed something personal, something I believed…trusted. What did I have, in my lie of a life, to believe and trust? Carth was wise to suspect everyone…Carth. Mission, Jolee, Bastila…my friends, my crew. I would hold to them, anchor me in this storm. Yes, they would see me through, each in their own way.

Mission came to me first. Her easy, sweet smile, her steady hand breaching a security panel. Mission was a blue contradiction. On the outside, she was a tough worldly young woman; on the inside, a vulnerable innocent little girl. She saw the world through both sets of eyes: the little girl held on to her brother's promises, but the young woman knew Griff was a lying con man. She clung tightly to the hope her brother would come for her; after confronting him at last on Tatooine, her dreams were shattered. I expected her to be angry with him, to hate him for what he had done to her. Instead, she saw the good and bad in him and accepted him for what he was. Good and bad, right and wrong. Light and Dark. If only it were that simple. Maybe it is, in the end.

Zaalbar was next to visit my mind. Like me now, he was avoiding a past disgrace. Unlike me, his shame was a lie. Exiled from his homeland as a Madclaw, banished from his royal house by a false charge from his own brother. The accusation was allowed to stand through Zaalbar's absence. His running away turned the lie into the truth for his people. This was his secret burden and he punished himself as if it were his due. Until he looked back and dealt with the past, he could not look forward to the future. When he returned at last and confronted his accuser, he reclaimed his heritage, his name, his pride. His identity.

Canderous was certainly not running from his past: he embraced it, clutched it close to him. It was all he had, all he knew. The next day never mattered to him, his place in the world was yesterday; but somehow he had made it to a tomorrow he was trained never to expect. Jagi's challenge was more than a question of honor, it was a charge to all Canderous believed in, all he cherished. Jagi's death did not still the demons haunting him, did not quiet the doubt. Canderous came to realize, or rather he decided, his memory of a bygone time and his role in the events of history was simply that: history. The world had changed, he told me, he had too as well if he wanted to survive. He would not deny his past, but no longer would he rely on it as a shield protecting him from difficult decisions, like moving on despite uncertainty.

Juhani thought she was running. She was just hiding. Hiding from herself. Unable to believe in her own goodness, she slipped into the shadows and used the darkness to conceal her doubt. She thought herself untamed, angry and violent—with so much bad about her, why try to pretend to be good? The fight with me in the grove forced her to realize her failure to herself. She was willing to give herself another chance, and tentatively stepped back to the light. Xor, her former slaver, tested her sorely: her anger was returned, raw, wild and dangerous. I thought she was pushed to the edge of falling; but she simply walked away from his hatred, refusing to strike him down. I realized she was never in danger, her control was complete, even if she did not realize it. She rejected her self-doubt and fiercely defended her newfound dignity. She had never truly succumbed to the darkness back in the grove—she was simply unwilling to embrace the light within her. She felt herself unworthy; now she knew her faults did not define her, her choices did.

Jolee claimed to be hiding in the wilds of Kashyyyk, an exile from life. He was there to forget, to keep from thinking about his wife, the war, his hand in it all. What better place to prove your insignificance than at the roots of a kilometer-tall tree? In the Shadowlands, these events, these people, no longer held meaning. The pain was supposed to go away as he lost himself. But in the solitude, he revisited his past every day. Each detail was engraved into his mind perfectly, the world outside unable to impose itself and replace his memories. Instead of pushing it away, the pain was embraced and accepted: it was the remembering that allowed him peace. No, Jolee wasn't there to hide, to become small and lost. He was there to remember.

Oh yes, remembering—and relishing in—pain, next was HK-47, my love child with the Dark Side. A constant and not-so-gentle reminder of my past, that damn droid seems to delight in causing me anguish. He is as he is programmed, he tells me. I try to guide him to better behavior, but he resists. It is not his desire to change…it is my desire to change him, to what I want. To what I think is best. I ignore his chosen path, force him to act against his will to do my bidding. How very Jedi-like of me.

The most Jedi-like Jedi would be Bastila, naturally. She had an image in her mind of the perfect padawan, and she strove to achieve that expectation. She never questioned the Council, and followed each order to the letter. The Jedi Code was not a guide to assist her, it was law never to be transgressed, and she was a living, breathing symbol of every word. Well, except for that pride problem. She was so proud of her abilities, her "Jedi most likely to succeed" status, that a fall to the dark side was inconceivable to her. So she never planned for it, never contemplated how she would handle the temptation. It is folly to disavow a part of yourself—it becomes your weakness, a target for enemies to breach your defenses. It was easy for Malak to turn her. Not through torture, no, that is not the way of true evil. The dark side seduces you, it does not beat you into submission. It makes you believe it was your own choice. When you give in, you hold to it all the more because you think it is what you want. Malak understood. Bastila still does not. She told me she has made peace with herself, but those words come from her pride, not her heart. She denies her darkness, she finds it shameful to hold such evil within herself. She acknowledges it must be there, but she does not tolerate it. She struggles to banish it from her heart, her mind, her soul, when all she needs to do is accept it.

Carth was patiently waiting, as seemed to be his lot with me since that day on the beach. That day itself was over four years total in the making. When his wife died and his son was lost to him, Carth stopped living too. He sealed himself away from everything and everyone with walls of anger and distrust, guilt and fury. He simply existed, he put his life on hold. Vowing vengeance on Saul kept him breathing, but he knew that wasn't worth living for. Doing the right thing became paramount to Carth, as if to convince himself he had done all he could for his family, that he had not betrayed them. How many times on Taris did he tell me he wanted to save the galaxy? He wanted to save his wife, that is what he meant, that is what he really wanted. Now he wants to save me, protect me, keep me safe. Ah, there was a goal to give his life meaning. That was a simpler task before our little adventure on The Leviathan—Jiara could use a hand, sure, but Revan? He could not see a way to save Revan, either physically, or morally. Instead he focused on Jiara, the woman he could rescue—I can hear the name on his lips, lyrical, soothing, loving. But he cannot hold half of me—especially with his dead wife still in his arms. Why can't he leave Telos once and for all and find me…all of me?

My thoughts were spiraling into turmoil. Thinking of my friends had not brought the calm I had imagined: the lessons they seemed to offer were not what I anticipated, the support I needed seemed not to be there. In desperation, I meditated on the Jedi Code. But even that did not come easily to me. There is peace in chaos. No, that is not right. Harmony comes from passion. Victory is knowledge. No, these are not the teachings; I am confusing the Jedi and Sith. I paused to think deeper, to find the meaning I sought. Serenity will give me power…. Death will break my chains.

Of course. I could not help but smile.

I was not lost: Revan was found.


	12. Questions Ch 12

Coming to on the floor of the grand ballroom of the Coruscant capital building is, to say the least, disorienting. Waking up to a sea of medics all hovering over you with great concern is disconcerting. But realizing you were pretty much the last person to recover is just plain embarrassing. Bastila scrambled and struggled to her feet amid the protests of the medics who tried to hold her down.

"I said leave me be! Thank you for your efforts, I am quite fine now." Her words were clipped and angry. She ignored the twinge of pain in her ribs.

"Hey, the lady said she's alright, I suggest you listen to her." Canderous stood close behind the wall of medics: one look at him and they dispersed. "Thought maybe we lost you there for a minute, princess."

"Yes, well, I believe my body was resting in order to restore my Force powers," she stammered. Bastila was humiliated as she looked around the room. Carth was hunched over on a chair across the room waving off medics; Zaalbar was leaning over the smoldering pile of HK; Mission and Juhani were tending to a seated and alert Jolee. The rest of the guest list were also moving about. Apparently she was the only one left unconscious on the floor—no wonder she was the center of attention for the medics…and Canderous, ever present to get in an obnoxious comment. How long before he would let this one go? He still brought up those damn Vulkars at least once a week.

"You took some extra hits, ya know," he answered. "Those punks each took a shot at you before they left. Called you traitor, a few other names…."

"Really? That's a relief, actually. I admit I was embarrassed to have been down longer than the rest," she said smoothing her robes.

"I know," Canderous said leaning close to her. "That's why I made up that little story to tell everyone." Bastila's eyes stretched to an unnatural size, her mouth fell open. "Just our secret, got it?"

"Do you toy with me, Mandalorian?" she snarled, eyeing him suspiciously.

"Just thought I'd do you a favor, that's all. Don't want you distracted in battle, worrying that the others have no confidence in you. But you need to be aware in order to prepare better."

"I see," Bastila said, absently straightening her sash in order to avoid his stare. "I appreciate the advice, Canderous, thank you. But won't you be concerned with my skill? I could let you down, get you killed."

"I can take care of myself in a fight. I would be a fool to depend on others, but I would be a bigger fool if I did not accept help when it was available. I have seen many days of bloodshed, Bastila, I know what it takes to win. Aim to kill." His voice was serious, heavy. He seemed to be saying more than what the words meant on the surface. Bastila now looked at him, concern and confusion mixed in her face. He sighed. "I am going to see what I can do about that droid. Revan will be very upset if he is not repaired properly—he will not be of much use to her in his current condition."

"But she's not…here…" The meaning of his words settled on Bastila as if a great weight had crushed her. "No, Canderous, you can't…no! We will get her back, do not rush to make a mistake in this."

"You have until that droid is working again." He turned to leave, then paused. "This too is our secret, until the time comes," he said over his shoulder. "Do not concern the others, they will not battle well. And remember, aim to kill."

* * *

A quick note to acknowledge and thank my legions…err, throngs…um, dozens…okay, the few and proud readers who have stopped by and stuck it out with this story. Thanks for your votes and reviews. I hope you continue to read and enjoy, and please do not hesitate to let me know what you think! (Yes, shameless begging here…) And of course, the characters are not mine! 


	13. Questions Ch 13

Sorry for the short chapter last time. this one is a bit longer...enjoy (and review!)

* * *

"How about now?" Mission asked Jolee. He opened his mouth: silence. Mission squeezed his hand tighter. "We are gonna get them for this. Core-slime cowards!" she warbled. "Why are we still sitting here, we gotta go after them!"

"Calm yourself, Mission," Juhani soothed. "They are gone, they made sure we could not follow."

"But we aren't just going to let them get away with this, for what they did to us, and to Jiara!"

"What do you mean, Mission?" Bastila asked as she joined them. She knelt beside Jolee.

"For all this, " she said with a sweep of her arm. "For stealing Jiara from us. And for trying to kill Jolee!" The old Jedi patted her head and attempted a smile for her.

"I do not think they stole Jiara, Mission," Bastila sighed. "I think Revan joined them." She looked away sadly and attempted to compose herself.

"We can't let that happen!" Mission yelped. "We need to go after them, now!"

"I am sure the Council…" Bastila's automatic response was cut short by an angry and unexpected outburst from Mission.

"They aren't doing anything! It's like Carth said, they just wait and see, no matter what!" Mission yelled. "One of those Jedi masters showed up, he wants to see you all, now. They aren't going after the Sith, they are just sitting around waiting for you!" Bastila gave a concerned look to Juhani.

"It is true, Master Vrook was here. I was surprised to see him. He was most displeased," Juhani explained. Jolee nodded in agreement.

"Master Vrook is never happy, but he has reason this time," Bastila sighed. "Now, first things first: Jolee, what is your condition?" Jolee looked at her in grouchy silence. He motioned to his throat with his left hand—Mission was clutching tightly to his right. "Allow me, I may be able…" she began, raising her palm to his throat.

"No, you need it more!" Juhani exclaimed. "Canderous told us. They will pay for this treachery!"

"Yeah, bantha-butt-breath Sith spies! I can't believe they kept zapping you. They are gonna be so sorry when we catch up to them!" Mission vowed. Bastila felt her heart flutter at hearing the lie. She glanced back to see Canderous kneeling over the broken droid with Zaalbar.

"Mission, could you try to keep Zaalbar away from HK?" she asked turning back to the blue Twi'lek. Mission shot her a concerned and curious look.

"Why, don't you want him fixed? I know HK bugs you and all…"

"No, its just," Bastila's mind raced wildly for a plausible story. "Canderous wants to help out, and if he does this by himself, he will feel as if he has accomplished something. But be discreet—you know Canderous will accept no charity and he will be highly upset with me if he knows I shared his secret." Mission cracked a smile: pulling one over on Canderous was most appealing.

"I'm on it!" Mission said brightly. She gave an extra squeeze to Jolee's hand before bounding off. Jolee quietly waved her away. Once she was gone, he stared intently at Bastila.

"It is fine, I have regained enough Force energy for the two of us," she said closing her eyes in concentration. Jolee felt the warmth spread through his skin. He coughed, then cleared his throat.

"Well, I've been accused of talking too much, but this was the first time anyone ever did anything about it," he rasped lightly.

"This is no joking matter—you could have been killed!" Juhani growled.

"That wasn't the goal of this little raid. Look around, except for a couple guards out in the hall, no one was seriously injured. They had us, but they did not kill us, any of us. Took no prisoners either. Most peculiar, for Sith. They were here for some other reason."

"Indeed, this was a message, and they wanted as many people as possible to spread the word: Revan is returned," Bastila said seriously. "They were toying with us, trying to break our spirit."

"I'd say it worked," Jolee motioned towards Carth. Bastila looked over to him. Carth was seated near a window, bent over, his elbows resting on his knees. He had something in his hands.

"Shall we see what the Council has to say to us?" Juhani asked.

"You mean what they have to yell at us about? This will be our fault, one way or another," Jolee groused.

"First, let me speak to Carth, then we will go together," Bastila said as she stood.

"Take your time…" Jolee slipped the words from the side of his mouth. Bastila smiled weakly at him, then headed across the room.

* * *

The pin arm was bent at an odd angle, there was a dent in the corner, and some enamel was chipped away: Jiara's Cross of Glory was broken and useless. _Like me_, Carth thought. He stared at the medal intently, his hands smoothing over it in an endless cycle. This symbol of hope, triumph, acceptance of the Light—acceptance of him—was now a token of bitter rejection. Jiara had turned. Turned away, from the Republic, from the Light…from him. And he let her. He thought he tried, he promised to help her, but he really hadn't offered her anything to hold on to when the true test came. _Fighting Bastila at that temple wasn't nearly as difficult as battling yourself, your own demons,_ he thought to her silently. Jolee was right—it didn't end there, it was the beginning. Five years ago, he thought it was over, the end of the Mandalorian War was to bring an era of peace: it ended up being the beginning of something far worse. Once more he misjudged: the end of the Star Forge was the beginning of the real battle, and like the time before, he was unprepared, and unable to save the one he loved most. He was running the wrong race, and Jiara slipped away. He had failed, again. Another woman gone, and he alone was the common factor: he had let them both down. Carth would have chuckled at the irony, if it all wasn't so painful. A realization settled in him; a deep, dull ache stabbed through him with each tormented beat of his heart. _Nothing but a hypocrite,_ he thought. He spent the past five years in a cloud of suspicion and mistrust, when all along he was the one not to be trusted. Everything he was, everything he believed, everything he worked for, all his talk, his noble intentions, his combat training, his piloting skills—these were not enough to save them. He was not enough.

From the corner of his eye he saw Bastila making her way towards him. Her measured gait suddenly faltered, she seemed unsteady. Carth never moved to help her. He was unable to move. He just sat there, staring at the broken medal, the broken promise.

* * *

What a total mess, Bastila thought as she studied Carth. His black uniform was crumpled and disheveled, the collar unbuttoned with the weight of his medals pulling the jacket open to the left. He was leaning over, his dark hair cascading over his face. He was preoccupied with something he held in his hands—the medal. Bastila felt her heart sink as she realized what it was. Revan had tossed it at him specifically; that single act spoke volumes, more than any words could express; more than any words could hurt him. Bastila could not imagine how he felt…but then, she didn't need to. As she closed nearer to him, she hit a wall of emotion. Sorrow and grief ensnared her. It was overwhelming, staggering. Her sense of balance was knocked away; she lost her footing and stumbled. She stared at him in disbelief. The raw pain was relentless: the disappointment, failure, and emptiness. Bastila felt as if she were being gutted. She instantly cut her connection to the Force—how could he stand it? How could he sit there, so calmly, with this hurricane swirling inside? How could he even breathe? She had never experienced anything so strong, so uncontrolled, so dark. _There is no emotion; there is peace _she whispered to calm herself. It did not work, and she was not surprised. Those words were meant to be a pillar of strength, like the trees on Kashyyyk; they were revealed to be nothing but frail flowers, pretty sentiments of inspiration. The words were ripped away, shredded in this maelstrom of anguish. On the Star Forge, she had recited the Code and found relief, but now, in this turmoil, they failed. This was true power, wild, unharnessed…and unleashed by the man seated before her. Bastila realized in that instant why the Jedi teachings cautioned against passion. She always thought her Force abilities made her special, above the others, better. But she could never cope with the might of such emotion; she marveled at Carth's ability to command this energy, to produce it and bring it forth, rather than simply tap into an existing supply. She had experienced it for only the briefest of moments: it nearly brought her to her knees and she was having trouble recovering; Carth continued on in its midst. She envied his resolve and strength, wondering how he could go on. She also searched for something to say. Words of comfort were not exactly her forte, but what could she possibly say anyway to reassure him? "Carth," was all she managed, her voice choked with sadness.

"What kind of man am I?" he breathed, his gaze still riveted on the medal.

"A good man," she returned quickly. Tears were pooling in her eyes.

"You're a terrible liar," he chuckled. "But nice try."

_How could he even smile in such despair?_ she wondered. "I…I don't know what to say," Bastila stammered as emotion flowed and tears began to fall. "This is…I am so sorry, I never expected her…you must feel so betrayed," she whispered.

"I don't feel betrayed, I feel responsible!" Carth growled hotly. "I screwed it all up again. How many people get a second chance? I learned nothing, I guess, I did it wrong all over: I let my wife down, I let Jiara down. I wasn't strong enough, I wasn't there for her, I wasn't…" his voice trailed as he looked at Bastila. She was shaking, and paler than usual, except for her red-rimmed eyes. He had never seen her cry, ever. "Hey, hey, you okay, here, sit down," he said as he got up and guided her into his chair.

Bastila stared at the medal in his hand, then turned away; he quickly stuffed it into his pocket. With all this on his mind, he still found a way to have concern for her? Bastila knew he did not understand what she had meant….she had betrayed them all, by telling Jiara of Malak's ploy to kill his master completely, mind and body. That information sent her away, in search of Revan. Bastila was responsible. It was her fault. Jiara was strong in the Force, strong in the Light—stronger than Bastila. And she had her friends to lean on, and Carth to turn to…but she fell, again, despite it all. It had to be because of what she told Jiara—that her memories as Revan were still out there, waiting. And what about Bastila? Would she be next to fall? Why didn't the Sith take her when they had the chance?

"Bastila? Bastila? You in there?" Carth's call sounded in her ears. Bastila snapped out of her thoughts to see Carth bent over, staring directly at her. "You sure you're okay? You took some nasty hits…"

"I am fine," she said with near anger as she waved him off. That Canderous felt the need to spread the lie was infuriating enough, but to have it repeated so often was intolerable.

"Well, you're made of sterner stuff than me," he said standing to his full height. "I don't think I could have taken all that, those were some rough shots. And that Alderaan woman even kicked you a couple times."

"What, you saw this?" Bastila asked with confusion. How could this be?

"Yeah…I passed out for a moment when I nailed the floor, but I regained consciousness quickly. I really couldn't move, but I saw them all gathered around you…well, I saw their feet anyway. They were using all kinds of Force powers on you, taking turns. I figured since they were preoccupied with you, I'd try to reach for Jiara's…" Carth paused. "…the medal. As I was grabbing it, I heard Canderous from somewhere behind me yell at them to leave you alone. That got their attention, and they saw me moving, and whatever he was doing too, so we both got another jolt. So much for a surprise attack or following them. Last thing I saw was that Alderaan representative kicking you as they left." Bastila made no attempt to hide her shock. She turned around to look back at Canderous. He was alone with the droid…Mission had done her job and pulled Zaalbar away. For only the briefest moment, she wondered why he had gone through the trouble of telling her the truth, but making her believe it was a lie. This was his way, his attempt to encourage her, to force her into pushing herself harder for what lay ahead. He knew she would not accept his advice—or maybe he just couldn't admit to caring enough about the crew…about her. _Such sentiment is unbecoming a warrior_, she thought.

"Didn't you know?" Carth asked. "I saw him over there talking to you, I figured he told you about it. He wouldn't let the Jedi take you and Jolee away after they showed up," he continued.

"What?" Bastila's confusion grew. How much did she miss?

"Yeah, I don't know how long I was down, but all I remember is waking up to Canderous arguing with one of the Masters. I recognized him from Dantooine; he wanted to take you and Jolee back to the temple for healing or whatever. I got up and joined the fight. In the end, they just gave everyone a general heal and left—you are supposed to go over there as soon as you can," Carth explained. "Lucky you," he deadpanned.

"Indeed," she intoned. "I hope they will assist us in retrieving Jiara." At the name, Carth's expression saddened. He lowered his head and sighed.

"Ya know, this just doesn't make sense," he finally burst with frustration. "I didn't get any sense she was so close to the edge. None, at all! Why didn't I see it? Am I that selfish? What was it that drove her away?" He took the medal from his pocket and studied it further. "How did she know the Sith were here, that Yuthura was out there planning something for this evening? And how did she know to bring this with her for the occasion?" he waved the medal around with disgust. "There is just something wrong…that wasn't her."

"Carth, that wasn't Jiara, that was Revan," Bastila said flatly. He was grasping at straws. His grief was becoming denial—she didn't need her Force sensitivity to see that.

"Yes, whatever, but shouldn't Jiara still be in there somewhere? I didn't…_feel _her," he struggled for the right words.

"Revan is very strong," Bastila began. "It could be that who we knew as Jiara is completely…"

"Don't even say it, Bastila," Carth growled. "She helped us all; she didn't even stop to think about it, she just did what needed to be done for each and every one of us. We've got to find a way, we've got to. We've got to save her…I have to…" The despair and desperation were blatant in his voice. Bastila sought a plan to distract him. A loud clanking crash echoed through the room. She and Carth turned to see Canderous loading HK onto a service cart. "What is he doing? Zaalbar and Mission have forgotten more about repair than he will ever know," Carth said dismissively.

"He is fixing HK for Revan," Bastila answered, thinking this might be what Carth needed to keep his mind occupied. "I made Mission and Zaalbar leave him to himself in order to buy us some time—he plans to go to her once the droid is working again." Carth's expression told her at once this had been a mistake.

"I should have known. That whole 'I'm your man till the end' speech he gave her," Carth said with as much mockery as he could muster. He then took a deep breath and sighed. "At least _one _of us can keep his promises to her," he commented sadly.

"Try to stall him, at least until we get back from the Council. They may have news that will keep him on our side. I do not relish the thought of fighting against him or especially that damn droid," Bastila pleaded. Carth paused for a moment, then nodded and shrugged.

"Good allies make bad enemies, this is true…I should know," Carth said flatly as he started to walk away.


	14. Questions Ch 14

Hi again and thanks to the few and proud who bother to leave a note letting me know you're out there and still reading! This chapter is a change of pace: a flashback, the first of many, told from Revan's point of view as her memories slowly return. Hope you like it! Oh, and yeah, I own nothing, blah blah blah...

* * *

As my memories, my self, began to fill my mind, one specific thought came to the fore and literally demanded attention. Malak and I were close friends, I knew this even before I could remember it, so it should not have been such a shock to realize we had been more. Maybe it was the bitterness and contempt he displayed towards me on the Star Forge that kept me from thinking on it at the time, but I should have realized those emotions came from something deeper than friendship, something beyond the darkness and corruption of the Force. Now I knew, again. We held off for as long as we could—Jedi rules and all. _No, that wasn't exactly true,_ I smiled slightly at the thought. We simply hadn't had an opportunity; the first chance we got, we took. How ironic, I mused, that only after we had turned to the shadow, were we able to follow that mighty Jedi rule, to deny our love.

Two days before my 18th birthday, Master Zhar was reassigned to the Dantooine training enclave. As a birthday gift, my master allowed me to travel with him—and I insisted Malak go with us. We had never been off Coruscant, and barely away from the academy and temple, so as boring as Dantooine is, going there was still the most exciting thing to happen to us, ever. That would prove to be all too true in many ways. As we were being introduced to the Council, a settler on the planet entered asking for help. A wild animal had been ravaging his small village for months and they were powerless against it. Their leader had gone missing; they feared the worst for him. He was a great hunter and he must have gone out to protect his people, but he never returned. After a brief consultation between them, the masters reassembled and made a most startling announcement.

"Revan and Malak will accompany you," Master Vandar said. "They will see to this matter and act on behalf of the Council." The settler bowed and thanked him profusely. We were stunned and looked to Master Zhar for answers. He took us to a nearby training room.

"It is time, my students, for your final trial," he told us. "This is your last test. Complete this task and you shall earn your robes. You shall become padawans and join the ranks of the Jedi." The news caught us off guard, and I admit I did something rather un-Jedi-like. I squealed and hugged Master Zhar with all my strength. Malak laughed—he told me that for the first time ever, it seemed Zhar was at a loss for what to do.

We chatted excitedly as we followed the settler to his village. We could not believe our luck: to finally become full Jedi, and with so easy a task as dispatching with a crazed kath hound. We had learned of other finals, how so many had stumbled in their attempt, and we were glad to have such a simple goal set out for us. But we should have known; the wisdom of the Council is always layered with meaning. What we would learn on that day, what we would come to know about ourselves, each other….

The walk to the village took the rest of the sunlight. I decided we should go to the leader's estate to rest and look for clues. He was, as mentioned, quite the hunter. His entire house was an enormous trophy room. Malak seemed impressed, but I found it distasteful. Killing for sport was useless, I said. Malak called it a challenge, pitting your skills against those of the wild.

"And your superior firepower," I snorted. "I am sure that tach was a wily and worthy adversary," I sniffed, pointing to the stuffed specimen on the fireplace mantle.

"Well, probably not," Malak allowed. "But look at this, a Krayt dragon!" The massive head acted as a pedestal, upon which smaller creatures were displayed. "And look at that!" he said pointing up: a mynock and shyrack were suspended from the high ceiling, positioned as if locked in combat.

"This is disgusting," I said with a slight shiver. So many cold, dead eyes staring at me.

"He has been everywhere to collect so many—I can't think of a single species that is missing," Malak said lost in admiration. "In fact, I see quite a few that I don't recognize."

"I suppose the sentients are in the _special_ room…." I mocked. Malak stopped to stare at me.

"Let's hope not," he said flatly.

"It would have been better if he just caught these animals and put them in a zoo. Wouldn't that have produced the same sense of manliness?" I chided.

"Come on, Rev…. Stop being such a _girl_…" Malak teased. He knew exactly which buttons to push…and he seemed to be pushing them more and more these days.

"I am going to do something useful—I would like to earn my robes…." I said with a huff, "…as quickly as possible. I don't want to be here any longer than necessary." I began to search the room for something other than dead life forms.

"Well, what would you like to do, then? It is already dusk…I don't think it wise to track the animal in the dark. This guy took down rancors and wampas, and a damn Krayt dragon…what on Dantooine would have done him in?"

"Let's find out," I said waving a pile of datapads. "These were in his desk, I assume they are his journals. Shall we seek the wisdom of a mighty hunter to aid us in our task?" I tossed one at him; he caught it and feigned distress, as if the throw were too much for him to handle; he fell back into one of the overstuffed leather sofas with a fake groan. I glared at him: he never missed a chance to comment on my lack of physical strength, at least compared to his own. My Force power dwarfed his, but what practical use was that if you couldn't even open a jar of pickles without help? He gave me a mischievous grin as he settled in and activated the datapad. I stuck my tongue out at him, and then did the same: I flopped into a large chair and started reading.

Of course it was my luck to get a bookkeeping record. Boring numbers, one after another, mostly. Every so often, a large amount was entered, paid to various names—with no note as to why. But I quickly noticed a pattern: immediately after one of these entries, a payment to a taxidermist was recorded, with a species noted. I supposed these unmarked payments were to guides for his expeditions and hunts.

"I have changed my mind," Malak said gravely from across the room. I looked up at him, his face was ashen, a look of supreme disgust and horror masking his features.

"Don't tell me…sentients…?" I whispered, my eyes wide.

"Thank the Force no," he said quickly. "But it is almost as bad. He wasn't exactly hunting these creatures," Malak began; the words seemed to cause a sour taste in his mouth as he spoke them. "He was having them delivered, alive, so he could kill them here."

"What?" I could not comprehend the statement…it was so barbaric.

"Here, listen," he started to read from the datapad. "It says _'The katarn arrived today. Took them 3 months to find this one—a great specimen, large and full-bodied. An excellent addition to my collection, worth every extra credit. He was so large, he barely fit in the cage; it took four shots to bring him down. I have never been so pleased with a hunt as this day.'_ He killed a caged animal—one he didn't even catch! That was no hunt!" Malak spat.

I wanted to vomit. So that explained the large sums: pay-offs to the real hunters, his suppliers and smugglers. "What is the date on that?" I said as calmly as possible.

"Uh," he searched the unit. "Says here…just over a year ago. Wow, he has been busy," Malak said looking around the room. He spied the katarn head, then looked back at the datapad. He tossed it away with revulsion.

"Here, go through these, find the most recent. I think it is safe to assume whatever we are here to deal with isn't native," I said handing over a stack of journals. "I am going to look in this account text, see if there is a mention of his most recent catch." I buried myself in the bookkeeping records—I did not want to read of his killing exploits. I heard Malak sifting through the datapads quickly. I scrolled down to the end of the account's entries. This one stopped too long ago, some four months back. I moved to the desk and searched, finding a newer unit in a side drawer. Malak had become quiet; I looked up to see him reading intently. I looked into my own datapad, and quickly sought the last entry. It was dated nine weeks ago, no taxidermy entry afterwards. It was an enormous amount, a fortune, and not a small one. I let out a low whistle.

"I bet," Malak answered. "I know what it was, and it had to cost him dearly."

"Apparently so—it cost him his life," I said. "So, out with it…what creature is waiting for us? What poor beast do we need to kill for our robes?" I almost did not want them now that I knew.

"We are going to earn them, make no mistake," Malak's voice was heavy, even hinted at fear. "It's a Terentatek. The idiot brought a Terentatek here."


	15. Chapter 15

Juhani bowed, then stared straight ahead. Bastila curtseyed briefly and trained her gaze at the floor. Jolee counted the ceiling tiles with total irreverence. The Council chamber was dark and somber; the lights of the city sparkled through the wall of windows, providing what seemed to be the only illumination for the room. Vrook and Vandar stood before them; the High Council remained behind, nearly obscured in the shadow.

"It is good to see you again, Masters," Juhani said with earnest. Bastila shared the Cathar's surprise and gratitude. Her encounter with the High Council the previous night had left her cold. With her former trainers, she felt she would get some compassion…well, from Vandar at least.

"It is good to see you too, Juhani. It would seem you have done well since leaving the enclave; the Light remains strong in you," he smiled slightly and bowed to her. His expression then fell into a forlorn frown. "We had planned on reuniting under more pleasant circumstances, however," Vandar sighed, his ears slipping to point downward dejectedly.

"Yes," Vrook remarked flatly. "We were summoned to assess some new students—former Sith acolytes who found their way to this temple—and while here we would join in the celebration of your victory over the Star Forge. Imagine our surprise at what we found awaiting our arrival."

"This took us all by surprise," Bastila said with a sour tone.

"Did it?" Vrook returned.

"We stand here, this day sadly familiar," Vandar sighed. "In the fading glory of a momentous triumph, the darkness stirs again: on the eve of peace and balance, our greatest champion is lost and the shadow threatens to eclipse the future."

"There was no warning, Masters," Juhani pined. "She seemed at peace, at least in my company. I do not know why she has reclaimed this path."

"Bastila, what of your bond with Revan? Is there any insight to this mystery?" Vandar asked. Bastila hesitated.

"Our bond is severed," she said finally. "It faded after I…when I was captured by Malak," she corrected herself in mid sentence.

"I see," Vrook said evenly.

"And what of you, Jolee Bindo? What do you have to say on this matter?" Vandar directed the words at the elder Jedi, but kept his gaze on Bastila. The old hermit continued to look upon the ceiling with complete fascination.

"Hmmph, why do you waste your time with this one?" Vrook grumbled dismissively.

"Every man is a volume, Master Vrook," Vandar intoned. "If you know how to read him, that is."

"This one is a closed book; he turned from us years ago," Vrook added with a wave of his hand.

"But I sense some information in him yet. Speak, Jolee Bindo, share your wisdom with us."

"Since when does the Council want to hear what I have to say?" he muttered.

"Since it may help your friend," Vandar answered.

At the words, Jolee relaxed his defiant posture and exhaled sharply: he hadn't realized he was holding his breath. "This _is _unexpected," Jolee admitted as he looked to Vandar. "She was strong, even through all these stupid damnable ceremonies. But yesterday…" he began. Bastila tensed—she had hoped this would not come up, but then, how could it not? "Yesterday, there was a darkness, something she had never called upon before, for any reason. It was sudden, and unsettling, and _very_ powerful."

"I see," Vandar said calmly. "Bastila, what do you know of this?" Her reaction had not gone unnoticed. She stiffened again, then slumped as she realized there was no escaping the confession. "I suggest you begin at the beginning," he added with uncharacteristic severity.

"Yes, Master Vandar," she said softly. Bastila was allowed to relate the story uninterrupted, of Malak's plot and her revelation to Jiara. Juhani and Jolee looked at Bastila in unmasked shock.

"This is most unfortunate," Vandar breathed, disappointment thick in his voice.

"Why did you seek to hide this from the Council, padawan?" Vrook nearly growled.

"I saw no need to tell you, Jiara remained on the true path…"

"So why did you tell _her_?"

"She had begun to doubt herself, the Council, her actions as Jiara…I thought this information would help her," Bastila responded sadly.

"Instead, it sent her in search of her former self. It seems not to have been a long quest—Revan must have been closer than any of you realized," Vrook admonished. "Or wished to believe."

"So the cycle completes itself again. We had hoped Revan would stay with us this time… that her fall was brought about by the ravages of the Mandalorian War, the corrupting power of the ancient artifacts and the Star Forge itself. We gave her a second chance, to walk a brighter path away from the temptation of the shadow. But now, it is obvious, this darkness was in her heart, always," Vandar announced with deep sorrow.

"No!" Bastila cried. _This cannot be_, she thought. Though the bond was lost, there was still a part of Revan inside her, and if Revan had turned, how long before Bastila followed—perhaps even before Revan called her back to the Dark Side?

"Is there something else you wish to tell us?" Vrook eyed her warily.

"Carth said something…he does not think this is right somehow," she stammered, grasping at any excuse to avoid speaking a loud her fear.

"Carth Onasi looks through the eyes of love and emotion. He sees what he desires, not what is come to pass," Vrook dismissed.

"Hmph. Love saved the day once, it may do so again," Jolee grumbled.

"Or it may cloud our judgment against selecting the best solution," Vrook responded pointedly. Jolee looked back to the ceiling, his jaw quivering. "There is much at stake here, we cannot afford sentiment to rule logic. We have seen the cost of this choice before. A terrible price, indeed." Jolee took a deep angry breath at Vrook's words, but remained silent.

"Tell us more of the events this evening," Vandar requested. "What makes the captain believe this? Is there any reason beyond his personal hope?"

"Carth cannot explain how Jiara knew the Sith were waiting for her; how would she have known to seek them here on Coruscant?" Bastila's voice was a near plea, a request to refute what she too believed but so desperately did not want to. Carth _had _to be correct: something was wrong, but neither he nor Bastila could come up with a good explanation. The Masters would know, Bastila decided, they would tell her. She felt the tightness in her chest ease at the thought.

"She would have sensed them as she searched for herself, been drawn to them. The Dark Force brought them together in this way, it would seem," Vrook offered.

Bastila's shoulders rolled forward, defeated. This was not the answer she had hoped to receive. She blinked away the gathering tears and strove to center herself. _There is no emotion_, she thought retreating inward. She concentrated on her own inner voice, losing the sound of all others in the room. Vrook seemed to pay her no heed as he continued. "Now I would like to know how you three were overcome so easily. I was there, I felt the taint of dark power, but it was not all that strong. Certainly not what I expected from Revan."

"Our force power was exhausted, Master," Juhani answered.

"How did this happen?" Vandar asked, his ears perking in curiosity.

"We had meditated on Immunity for ourselves and the others," Juhani explained.

"For what reason, padawan? This seems a most futile exercise," Vandar's face wrinkled with confusion.

"Against your damn Jedi goon-squad, of course!" Jolee exploded. "You had every Jedi in the quadrant guarding us—what did you expect? We could tell what was going on," he grumbled.

"Apparently not," a voice from the back intoned.


	16. Chapter 16

Sorry for the wait! Trying to post weekly, but, ya know! Again, this is a fan fic based on characters owned entirely by someone else who got really rich from them. I just got inspired... Please review and let me know what ya think!

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"Hey T3," Carth greeted as he sidestepped the droid. "What's up?" T3 was rushing past with a small repair kit dangling from his service arm. A series of agitated beeps trailed as the droid wheeled into the work area. Moments later he was sailing past again. "Okay, I'll just stay out of the way!" Carth said as he continued deeper into the ship.

Canderous eyed Carth suspiciously as he wandered into the work area of the Ebon Hawk.

"What do you want?" he growled as Carth moved closer.

"None of your business Ordo," he snapped in response.

"Keep it that way," Canderous snarled back. Carth snuck a glance at the droid as he walked by. Canderous had laid out some parts, and arranged the droid's loose pieces in roughly the correct order. Service packs, repair kits and tools littered the workbench floor area. HK was nowhere near complete or even remotely close to operational. T3 appeared again, dropping another replacement part onto the growing pile. Carth continued back into the bunk quarters, kicking a repair kit on the way. "Hey, watch it," Canderous cautioned over his shoulder.

"Sorry, here ya go." Carth picked up the parts and handed them over. Canderous hesitated a moment, then took the kit and placed it on the table near the droid. "You're welcome," Carth sniped as he vanished down the corridor. His brisk steps became distant, then stopped, replaced by a slight click and a protesting squeak. Canderous recognized the sound instantly: it woke him up enough times. He chuckled as he realized he never got used to it. So, what could Carth possibly need from his locker? Something he happened to need right now? He must be up to something, Canderous decided. _Brilliant tactician my ass_, he grinned at the thought of Carth trying to put one over on him. _Ha, that'll be a warm day on Hoth_, Canderous smirked. _A contest of wits then, Onasi? I'm game; let's see what ya got._

Canderous returned to his work, swearing every so often. He concentrated on the wiring in HK's access panel, while listening for Carth's movements—he seemed to be rummaging for too long in his locker. He thought he heard the clink of glass…odd, Canderous wondered, stopping his work for a moment. Sparking circuits resulted in the droid jerking, then falling still again, returning Canderous's attention to the task at hand. "Damn pile of junk," he mumbled. "Come on, come on," he said to himself, forgetting to listen behind him.

"If he is beyond repair, well, good," Carth said as he emerged from the bunk area and casually crossed his legs as he leaned against the bulkhead. Carth had never hung around like this before, and his attempt to look indifferent and carefree was laughable to Canderous, especially since Carth was still in that stiff dress uniform. _Trying too hard there, Onasi_, Canderous chuckled to himself, then slammed the panel closed and finished soldering a joint in the left arm.

"Find what you're looking for?" Canderous said without turning.

"Yup, got it right here," he answered. The Mandalorian didn't take the bait—he continued to focus on his repair work. "Tarisian ale, knew I had some. And I need it tonight." Now THAT got his attention. Canderous stopped and turned to face Carth: sure enough, he held a small brown bottle loosely in his hand. He studied Carth's expression…either the soldier had nothing to hide, or that was the best damn Pazaak face he'd ever seen. "I'm told this is the good stuff," Carth continued lightly.

"Ha; there is no good Tarisian ale!" Canderous tried to sound disinterested. "Haven't seen that in months," he said at last. "Good thing you didn't tell me you were holding out on us."

"Wanna join me then?" Carth said producing a second bottle from behind him. Canderous raised an eyebrow at the offer: it was damn tempting. He looked at the droid, then at Carth, then back to the droid. Well, if he wanted to figure out what Onasi was up to, he had to play along, he decided…getting a free Tarisian ale on top of it wasn't too bad either. He shrugged and tossed his tools down carefully on the workbench. HK's eyes flickered briefly as the droid twitched and buzzed, a random spark spitting forth from frayed wires.

"Don't see why not," he said reaching for the offered bottle. He popped the cap as they sat down across from one another at the common area table. "I remember thinking this stuff was pure swill back on Taris," he said looking at the wisp of ferment coiling from the neck of the bottle. "Now I think I miss it."

"Cheers," Carth said holding up his bottle, then taking a hard swig. Canderous did likewise. The ale burned and left a bitter aftertaste. "Damn!" Carth spat as he swore he saw stars exploding behind his eyes. His face involuntarily winced.

"Yeah, pure swill," Canderous nodded, then took another swallow. The taste brought back memories: not all bad, but most were. Canderous of Clan Ordo, once a fearsome warrior and battle commander, reduced to a two-bit thug's hit man on a planet he wished he had burned to glass. If he knew back then what Taris was like, he would have made it his first stop during the war. He considered what Malak did to be a gift to the Republic, erasing the stench of that hellhole and all its useless petty populous. The place was full of dishonorable thieves…and the worst one employed him. It was degrading and humiliating to work for Davik; taking orders from that self-important dishonest bastard, only to be cheated out of his pay. Canderous allowed a smile to spread on his lips as he recalled Davik's painful death in the hangar. A small victory, but so deeply satisfying. Stealing the Hawk from him was a bonus insult to the injury. He almost wished Davik had survived so he would have to live with the humiliation of being duped. Canderous's smirk broadened with the thought.

"How can anyone ever get used to this?" Carth blurted, misinterpreting Canderous's pleased grin. "I am surprised it isn't eating through the bottle. This stuff can make you go blind, or worse!" Carth choked as he forced another hit of the ale. Even knowing what was coming, he wasn't prepared. He shuddered as it went down. "This is good?"

"Good for forgetting," Canderous said with no emotion. "And yeah, good for killing yourself. Plenty of people went that way in the Lower City," he said with an unconcerned shrug. "Course, there are better ways to go," he said finishing the last swallow.

"No kidding—a blaster to the face is better. All I can say is, had Saul tortured us with this bilge, damn, none of us would have held up." Carth slammed the half-empty bottle on the table. "How could Griff screw _this_ up? Anything he made from that tach gland HAD to be better."

"Rakghoul sweat is better!" Canderous laughed. Carth joined him, then they both fell silent. "Hey, Carth, listen," Canderous began slowly, breaking the awkward silence. "Sorry."

"For what? I think we know where we stand," Carth answered.

"For Revan," Canderous said flatly.

"Oh, yeah, well, something isn't right about this; we will fix it…that's what we do best, right? Fixing up the Galaxy when all hell breaks loose. And then we will get a parade and dinner," Carth snorted. "We owe it to her. We'll get her back. _I_ will get her back," he said softly, looking around the room everywhere, except at Canderous.

"Right," he answered as he toyed with his empty bottle. The uncomfortable silence stretched between them. Suddenly, Carth's personal comm activated, causing both men to jump. Canderous watched as Carth almost seemed to snap to attention in his seat as he addressed the caller.

"Onasi here, Admiral. What may I do for you, sir?"

"Captain," Forn Dodonna's voice cut through the room. "My office, 0-800."

"Yes…" Carth began crisply. "…Ma'am," he finished dejectedly to the silent comm. He let out a deep sigh as he rubbed his hand across his face. "Great," he mumbled between his fingers.

Canderous looked back at HK, then turned around again to study Carth. _Was_ he here for something, or just to drown his sorrows? _Good game, Onasi_, Canderous silently congratulated his opponent. _Let's take it up a notch._ "Know what, this didn't quite do it," Canderous said suddenly. "I was thinking about hitting the cantina at the hotel. They got the real good stuff there. Wanna come?" Canderous asked.

"Sure; I need something to get this taste out of my mouth," Carth said as nonchalantly as possible. He could not believe his luck: he had played the cards perfectly. Keeping Ordo away from the droid was going to be easier than he planned.

_Gotcha_ he grinned as he followed Canderous out of the hold.


	17. Chapter 17

Another update! A longer chapter, I hope you all like it. Thanks to everyone for stopping in and letting me know there are a few of you out there still reading!

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"Those Jedi were there to protect you, Jolee." The voice floated across the room, detached, both physically and emotionally. The manner in which the High Council member spoke matched her ice blue eyes and severely tight bun of frosty hair.

"Master Atris, thank-you, but do not trouble yourself," Vrook directed towards her testily.

"On the contrary, Master Vrook," she replied in the same tone, "no trouble at all, I assure you." She then returned her gaze towards the threesome. "They were not there to cause you harm, Padawan Bindo, or coerce you into anything against your will," she continued, emphasizing Jolee's rank and status.

"Coulda fooled me—we were at that party against our will," he snorted, pointedly ignoring her snide reference; did she not know he could give a gizka's royal behind for what she thought of him or his position within the Order? He stifled the impulse to scoff at her; he decided not to waste his time or breath on it. This whole meeting was a sham and useless diversion; why he agreed to their summons escaped his reasoning; why he thought the Council would suddenly become helpful was beyond him. Despite the membership being a whole new cast of fools, they were as secretive and superior—and damned infuriating—as he had recalled. "Thank the Force Bastila came up with the idea to shield our minds from your tricks!"

"This was your plan, Padawan?" Vandar asked, his eyes filled with dismay. At the mention of her name, Bastila had snapped out of her meditation and looked around, confused. "Well? Padawan Shan, answer: did you instruct the others to use Immunity against a threat that did not exist?" Bastila could only nod as she hung her head even lower at hearing the question put to her.

"Twice now, within the space of two days, your distrust of the Council has lead to unimaginable tragedy," Atris said evenly. "We should not need to offer an explanation, but I see one is in order. Shortly after you left last night, Padawan Bastila, we received word from the Republic: they had captured two Sith soldiers near the embassy. From them they received information on an attack planned for the dinner this evening. We agreed to assist them in guarding you, but you and your companions were not at the hotel. We mounted a search, and located you as quickly as possible; we kept vigil over you all, fearing the Sith may have discovered our knowledge of their plot and thus would seek to attack you directly."

"You did not find Jiara in this search?" Bastila asked.

"No, but we were not looking for her. We had hoped if she could not be found by us, she would not be found by them. We also theorized that perhaps she had sensed the Sith, and removed herself to reduce the risk to the rest of you. This was a vain hope, it seems."

"Then why take our weapons if you knew of the danger? Why not warn us?" Juhani demanded.

"That was not our order to disarm you," Atris answered with blatant irritation. "We did not tell you of the situation because we did not want you to betray our own plans or alert the Sith that their plot had been discovered—but we did not anticipate the spies infiltrating the senate, nor the attack at the earlier gathering. All reports indicated an assault at the dinner. The Republic had guards stationed there, and our orders were to assist them at that site."

"Yuthura did say they had a change in plans," Jolee muttered. "You should have told us, we would have been able to bluff our way through, and still been on guard. We got past you, didn't we? You cannot hold us at fault for what we were lead to believe by your actions in this."

"There have been missteps by all concerned, it would seem, the blame is not ours alone," Vrook rebuked. "What is done is done. We must move forward with the consequences."

"Indeed. We believe Revan is still weak, having recently recovered her memories. Her ability to use the dark energy of the Force is not yet returned fully to her. We have decided to act quickly in this," Master Atris continued.

"Already the Sith rally to her. Reports of troop movements are flooding the space ways. The Star Forge is gone, but not before it created a vast and mighty fleet. They only needed leadership, and it seems they have that now," Vandar said. "We cannot allow Revan to inspire them further. We learned the lesson of waiting in this matter the first time we walked this path. It will not happen again," he announced firmly, but sadly.

"To this end, we have allied ourselves without reserve to the Republic. We are set to meet with them to settle strategy as soon as possible. We paused only to hear from you, to learn what knowledge you had in this. I am glad we waited: your information was most revealing." Atris slipped back to the shadow; then as one, the entire group turned and drifted from the room through a door to the left. Vandar and Vrook remained, stern and disapproving stares directed at their former students.

"We shall assist in any way," Bastila offered awkwardly.

"I believe you have done enough, Padawan," Vrook chastised.

"Yes, Bastila, your actions thus far leave much to be desired. Your sudden mistrust of the Council's wisdom is surprising," Vandar expressed with disbelief. "And disheartening."

"Ha! Sounds like the lass has finally gotten a lick of sense into her!" Jolee shot back. "Hmmph, I told you they'd find a way to blame us," he muttered. "I hate being right all the time." Juhani made a poor attempt at hiding her smirk at Jolee's words; she raised her hand to cover her spreading smile as she stifled her chuckle with the thought that right now would have been the most inappropriate time for the old Jedi to break out one of his tired parables… which certainly meant he would, if given the chance. She heard him take a deep breath in preparation… but Vrook would have none of it.

"You would do well, Jolee Bindo, to remember there is always someone, somewhere, with greater knowledge than your own. A wise man moves about in search of this enlightenment, he does not sit still believing his own words to the exclusion of all others," Vrook cautioned.

"Really? Well, I will let you know when I find him," Jolee growled back insolently.

"Padawan Bastila, you defy the Council, your anger and your distrust in its motives bring you and your friends, if not the entire galaxy, to danger," Vandar continued. "I now look back at our decision to send you on this mission. It seems your training was not complete, though you appeared ready; your pride put forth an image that may have been inaccurate."

"But…" Bastila wavered. Disappointment in herself was crushing, but to hear it from her trainers was devastating.

"You shall return to the academy to reinforce your training, Padawan, before you slip further from our teachings," Vrook announced. "This is our decision."

"Yes, Masters," Bastila said thinly as she bowed low.

"Now hold on a damn minute!" Jolee began. Juhani too seemed alarmed and distressed.

"There is nothing in this to concern you, either of you," Vrook said looking back and forth at both of them. "You two are free to go; but do not interfere in this matter, nor in the situation with Revan. Your emotions betray you in this."

"Are you going to let them get away with this?" Jolee asked Bastila in a near shout.

"Not now, Jolee, leave it be." She glanced sideways at him, then motioned with her eyes to her wrist: her comm-link was blinking. Jolee raised his eyebrows, then masked his expression.

"Well, then, so be it. Anything else before we go, _Masters_?" Jolee drew out the last word with extreme mockery.

"Yes," Vandar said unexpectedly, causing Jolee to stumble slightly in his attempt to halt his retreat. The question was rhetorical, or so he thought; he was eager, if not desperate to get out of there and he was in no mood to answer any more pointless questions. "What can you tell us of the academy at Korriban, and the students there? We are set to review some former pupils, apparently sent here by Jiara."

"The Sith make a good sandwich," Jolee shrugged. "That's all I know."

"We were instructed to stay on board the Ebon Hawk," Juhani explained. "Jiara thought a group of Jedi would attract undue and unwanted attention."

"Yes, she was afraid we might be recognized, either as ourselves, or as spies for the Jedi. But she did tell us that she had convinced several students to turn from the dark side while she was there. I do not know more, I am sorry," Bastila bowed again.

"A final good deed from Jiara; let us hope her actions for the Light outlast and outweigh Revan's decisions for the Dark," Vandar mused. "You may go now, we wish to begin our meeting with the students. I fear we have kept them waiting long enough."

"As you wish," Bastila said with a small curtsey. Jolee and Juhani followed her through the main door.

"I cannot believe what just happened!" Juhani exclaimed once they were in the hall. "They will not help and they make sure we will not assist either! It was made clear: they are set to hunt Revan, to remove her at all costs."

"First time they actually get up off their backsides to do anything—and this is their decision? I guess I prefer their old methods," Jolee said flippantly.

"This is serious, Jolee, we must act quickly if we are to save her!" Juhani yelled.

"If she wants to be saved…" Jolee returned with no emotion.

"No!" Bastila shot back. "I refuse to believe this is what she wants, what is in her heart."

"I cannot believe it either," Juhani quickly agreed. "How could she have done all those good deeds, going out of her way to help everyone we encountered while trying to find the Star Maps, if she were truly evil? Just as she saved me from the darkness in the Grove, she saved me on Taris all those years ago. I remember that day, I remember how she was then… it is how she is now. The Council did not make her follow the Light by reprogramming her mind: she made that decision on her own," Juhani growled.

"Seems to me they hoped to reset her," Jolee answered. "Put her back to the point just before she started to fall, when she was still a Jedi Knight. Good plan, except now she remembers what they left out. I don't know what exactly caused her to give in to the shadow, Juhani, she never told me. But you have a better first impression of her than I do."

"What do you mean?" Juhani blurted. "Out with it, old man, and no damn story to illustrate the point! Just tell us, right now!" Her teeth were bared in a feral snarl.

"No respect for the aged!" Jolee protested. "You young people are so damn impatient! Oh yes, the whole galaxy will cave in on itself if we don't act this very instant. Bah! It was here before us, it will be here after we are returned to the Force, doesn't really matter what we want…"

"You met her before, didn't you? When she first found the map on Kashyyyk," Bastila said as the realization dawned on her. Why hadn't she figured this out sooner? Jolee nodded and sighed.

"That I did. She was dark then, dark as I've ever seen them… and she chose that path, Juhani. Just as sure as she chose to do all those helpful things this time around."

"WHAT did you say! Explain yourself, _Master_ Bindo," Juhani sneered, her eyes narrowed and her lips curled over gleaming fangs. Jolee clenched his jaw and straightened his posture at the insult.

"As much as I too would like to know what you mean, Jolee, now is not the time. First we need to see what Carth has to report," Bastila said raising her wrist, indicating the personal comm. "He has been trying to contact me for the past several minutes. Where can we find privacy?" she asked as she looked around… and came face to face with a group of teens. Jolee and Juhani also turned to them, their argument forgotten—it was difficult to ignore the intense emotions these kids cast off: anger, pride, distrust, suspicion. These were the Sith students, certainly. Bastila bristled at the realization that Vandar and Vrook had compared her, indirectly, to them. In remanding her to the academy, they were in fact saying she had been slipping towards the dark side, not simply forgetting her training. Her eyes narrowed, and she came to realize one of the students was staring back at her just as intently.

"Excuse me, have we met?" she asked curtly. The boy, the tallest of the group, wilted in her glare. He was in his mid-to-late-teens, as were the rest. He seemed familiar; but then all boys were the same to Bastila: awkward and against the rules.

"No sir… ma'am… miss," he stuttered as he snapped a salute; a Sith reflex.

"We are here to join the Jedi," another boy offered. A girl behind him nodded in agreement.

"Very good," Juhani answered. "A wise and bold decision. The Council chambers are just ahead," she pointed back to the doors.

"Thanks," he said as the group shuffled past.

Bastila realized she was still staring at the boy; he seemed locked in her gaze. She relaxed her posture towards him. "May the Force be with you," she told him. He nodded and scurried from her. As he caught up to the group, Bastila heard her name whispered. She turned to see the tall one shove another boy who mocked him.

"Yes sir, ma'am… that was Bastila, you idiot! Way to go!" the shorter one teased.

"Shuddup Mekel!" he said with another shove as they disappeared into the chamber room.

"Pretty popular there, Bastila… think he has a picture of you in his room?" Jolee harassed.

"So I am the poster girl for the Sith?" she growled at him. "This proves Jiara was correct in leaving us on the ship—our mission would have been in danger if I am so easily recognized. I begin to appreciate the whole mask idea Revan had…" Her comm blinked again. She looked around—the hall was now empty. She quickly pressed the button.

"Carth, what has happened?"

"Bastila, damn it! Why doesn't anyone ever answer my comm-link calls!" Carth's angry voice crackled through the air. "Get here on the double—it's Canderous."

"We're on our way, Carth, try to hold on," she said as she cut the link.

"But you are ordered to return to the academy," Juhani stammered.

"Yes," Bastila answered as she continued towards the front doors. "But they did not say when, did they?"


	18. Chapter 18

The next morning we headed out just after dawn. I had been unable to sleep, and Malak too was eager for excitement. Terentateks were supposed to be extinct; The Great Hunt took care of that. But it seemed at least one was missed. "We should go back, inform the Masters of this," I said as Malak scanned the ground for tracks. He seemed to slump a bit before turning back towards me.

"No, this is our chance! Think about how great it will be, the stories of our victory over a Terentatek!" His face beamed with confidence and expected glory.

"Or how about the lesson of our great defeat? Malak, these things are Force immune, many good Jedi—knights and masters—were killed by them. What chance do we, a couple of scrawny kids, have?"

"I'm not scrawny!" he yelped back. "And we aren't kids anymore. We are going to be Jedi."

"Maybe, but not this way. I don't like it," I said with a shudder. There was a sense of dread and foreboding I could not shake. But Malak's enthusiasm was limitless.

"We can do it Rev…no problem, the two of us? We are unbeatable!" he said excitedly. "We will show them. Hey, this is so big, maybe they will promote us right up to Knight!"

"Ambition does not become you," I said coolly. He stared back at me.

"Can't fool me—you want this too, I know it. Just be honest and admit it." I started to say something, but I never got the chance: A loud roar came from up ahead. We quickly took cover and waited as we heard thumping steps moving away from us. Slowly and carefully, we tracked the sound, and found ourselves standing before a massive cave. The ground at the opening had been trampled to bare dirt; chewed bones and half a kath carcass littered the area.

"Nice," I said sarcastically with disgust. "So, hero, gonna just rush in there and slice its head off for your wall?"

"Don't be stupid, Rev. Here, check this out," he said as he pulled something from his pack. He held out his hand and revealed a grenade. "I figured this would come in handy. Found it at the estate just before we left."

"You've been walking around with a live grenade? Why didn't you tell me?" I said with alarm. We had never used one, ever, or even held one. I didn't even know what kind it was.

"Because I knew you would act like this. Sheesh, it is just a grenade and it isn't activated! I figure we can use this to kill the Terentatek. Real easy, see? I just toss it in…and boom!"

"You are insane, you know that? I don't think they are that easy to get rid of."

"Well, let's find out!" With that, and before I could react, Malak tossed the small orb at the cave. It hit the dirt and rolled into the darkness of the entry. Nothing.

"Way to _go_…" I hissed at him as we cowered behind a boulder.

"But I pressed the button, I thought…" Just then, an explosion sounded and a brilliant, blazing light erupted from the cave…followed quickly by an annoyed trumpeting roar. It was a flash grenade—harmless. The Terentatek rumbled out of the opening. It was huge, covered in scales and horns, a mouth full of razor teeth, and sharp claws extending from its feet. It moved with uncertainty. It was blinded by the flash.

"It can't see! Now's our chance, let's do this!" Malak leapt from our hiding place, his lightsaber sparking to life as he took a wide arching swing. He landed a full hit across the creature's chest, but it seemed to do little damage, if any. He pulled back quickly, narrowly avoiding a wild swiping claw as the creature lumbered clumsily in its personal darkness. I jumped to join him. It did not seem to matter that the animal could not see. Already it had launched an offensive towards a visibly shocked Malak: this was going to be a rough battle.

The animal's blindness was soon no longer an advantage for us, if it ever was. The dust clouds we stirred up during combat left us nearly as sightless. The fight was ferocious; we hacked, it slashed. Malak was caught on the shoulder; I was grazed on my arm and side. At one point Malak ran around to the back, stabbing its legs to the hilt of his saber. The Terentatek turned, and fell, but incredibly got back up again and landed a blow on Malak. He fell backwards, but scrambled away and regained his feet. Instinctively he raised his hand to use a Force power on it, as did I. The animal was unaffected—_immune_, I remembered. Quickly I redirected my energy to heal us, somewhat. We dodged and parried, landing slices and stabs, but the animal persisted. We were covered in dirt and blood, both our own and from our enemy. We were wounding it, but not quickly enough, not badly enough. At this rate it would surely outlast us. A sweeping maul caught my tunic, ripping it open in shreds at my waist. I staggered back, realizing just a fraction's difference would have been my end. I redoubled my efforts, but I was getting tired. I heard Malak yell—not words—a loud war cry, maybe, but the sound nearly made my heart stop. I searched frantically for him, fearing the worst. Through the dust, I saw he had jumped on the Terentatek's back. He held his saber up, both hands locked in a vice-like grip around the hilt, then plunged it deep, down into the flesh of the beast, the blue of his blade vanishing completely. Stunned, and wounded badly, the animal reared up in a floundering attempt to reach behind to Malak. I took a chance, and with my remaining strength, I rushed up and delivered a similar strike, pushing the blade of my weapon into the soft chin of the creature. I pressed as hard as my muscles were able, until I saw the tip of my green saber break through the top of the Terentatek's head. I stumbled back quickly; the beast was falling forward, blood spurting in every direction, foul breath and spit encircling me as it roared a horrific death rattle; but still, somehow, it fought on. Its claws reached out for me; I could see Malak desperately, wildly stabbing at it.

That was when I felt it. A push, a slam, from behind. I turned to see a smaller Terentatek, its short but sharp and poisonous horn pressed deep into my hip. Then I sensed the pain, searing, blinding pain that left a ringing in my ears. A baby—no wonder this one fought so ferociously, she was guarding her young. I sliced at the infant; an ugly gash opened wide in its soft, unarmored hide, but it continued to gore me. A spreading circle of red darkened my apprentice tunic and pants. Sound left me, and darkness was closing in. I saw the ground rushing towards my eyes. I never felt the landing.


	19. Chapter 19

Another hearty thank-you to my readers and reviewers. I hope you continue to enjoy the story!

* * *

"Finally," Carth grumbled with great agitation as Bastila, Juhani and Jolee appeared in the hotel corridor.

"Is he in there?" Bastila asked motioning towards the closed door to Canderous's room.

"Luckily, yes. Didn't think he had that much to pack."

"Pack?" Jolee said with alarm. "What for?"

"Whaddya mean what for? You were there, Jolee—_I'm your man till the end _he said. He's going to her!" Carth was gesturing wildly as his thoughts and words tumbled over each other. "He doesn't care about us, about Jiara, about anything; all he cares about is just going out there and killing everything. Had us all fooled, we thought he changed…. Ya know, he wanted this. He looks to his glory days and thought on how to get them back; he came up with this plan. He _took_ her to the Sith, that's what happened!"

"I knew Jiara would not betray us! I shall kill him!" Juhani hissed, her eyes no more than glowering slits. She never really liked Canderous; the Mandalorians had destroyed her home, her people. She had grown to tolerate him as a teammate, but she never sought his company; she kept close enough only to keep an eye on him, she could never trust him no matter how many times he proved his worth or loyalty. She was most willing to believe this, evidence or no.

"Simmer down, people! What proof do you have, son?" Jolee asked as he placed a staying hand on Juhani's trembling arm.

"Isn't it obvious?" Carth spat. "Last one to see her was Canderous, and he claims he never went to her room? Next thing we know, Jiara is back to being the supreme ruler of the Sith. Pretty easy to figure out once you think about it."

"Oh, so this is just your theory? Betrayal and all, eh Carth?" Jolee dismissed.

"Good enough for me!" Juhani growled. With an angry jerk she freed herself of Jolee's hold. Juhani had had just about enough of everyone claiming the worst of Revan. If the Mandalorian had betrayed her, his life was forfeit. She sensed a small happiness seep into her: finally, an excuse to rid the galaxy of one who caused the end of her race…as if she needed another.

"Carth, have you been drinking?" Bastila asked pointedly. She had detected the smell of alcohol and determined it was definitely coming from Onasi. "You are drunk, aren't you?" she said with angry disappointment.

"No!" he said quickly. "Maybe," he admitted after a pause. "Okay just a little, but I am in complete control!" he added defiantly.

"You were supposed to be stopping him, not drowning your sorrows. Care to explain?" Bastila commanded in her best accusatory voice as her eyebrow arched ever so elegantly.

"I was! Okay, see, I went to the Hawk and I checked on his progress—didn't look too good, the droid was a mess, parts everywhere. I distracted Canderous with a bottle of Tarisian ale. It worked, and we ended up here at the hotel cantina. He wasn't working on the droid at all; I thought I had the problem solved. But about 30 minutes ago, that damn droid showed up! Outta nowhere! I stalled them as long as I could, but they came up here." He pointed to the door.

"How is that possible?" Bastila asked with annoyed incredulity.

"Well, I am glad I wasn't the only one to forget," Carth snapped back at her. "At least I was _drinking_…" he growled sarcastically.

"HK's self-repair protocol," Jolee answered in a distracted tone as the realization settled on him. How could they have all forgotten that, especially when it was that very function in the droid that earned them victory in too many fights to count?

"And we have a winner!" Carth ridiculed. "Canderous must have gotten the core program back on-line before we left the Hawk. I saw all the parts, assumed he didn't know what he was doing. Oh, he knew _exactly_ what he was doing; Canderous got the wires patched, hooked up the arms, then put everything possible within reach of HK so he had whatever he needed to finish fixing himself. I thought I was luring Canderous away from the ship—turns out he was making sure **I **was out of the way so HK could get done as quickly as possible. You were right Jolee—nothing as crafty as an old Mandalorian."

"But he didn't let anything slip while you two were boozing it up, did he? Anything about Revan or the Sith?" Jolee asked.

"That is something else I forgot—or didn't know. I don't think he can get drunk. Not only can he drink like a Selkath, but his implant purifies his system faster than he can pour. I should have known, the way he finished off that Tarisian Hutt-piss. I was holding my own, but there was no contest. He never lost it, even for a second. He said nothing he didn't want me to hear. By the time I realized what was going on, it was too late—and HK was there anyway," Carth admitted with an exasperated sigh.

"Then we are back to where we began—you have no solid proof he had a hand in Revan's return," Bastila cautioned.

Juhani looked away in disappointment: she chastised herself for allowing her anger to overtake her so quickly. She had not realized she held such venom towards Canderous; despite all her attempts to release the hatred she had gathered and nurtured for the Mandalorians, she was still holding him personally responsible, and sought to punish him. She shook her head as she realized she had afforded more mercy to Xor. She smiled at her new sense of understanding as the words of Master Quatra floated through her mind: _It is time, my student, for you to leave me. I have no more to teach you; but make no mistake, there are plenty of lessons still to be learned. Your new master will be the Force itself: be open to its teachings for its wisdom comes in most unexpected ways_. Juhani silently thanked her former master, then returned her attention to her current situation. The first thing she heard was Bastila's terse and stilted words filling the hall as she continued to berate the poor pilot.

"Stay focused, Carth—we may well need his assistance to rescue her and accusing him of treachery will _not_ further our cause," Bastila admonished. "Remember, I was supposedly the only one who knew of his plans to leave. Please do not betray my confidence in you." Carth lowered his gaze as he breathed heavily in anger. "If you cannot play along, it might be best if you remain silent, or leave."

The absurdity of the situation hit Juhani for the first time: here was Bastila, yet again talking down to a man nearly twice her age, a legend in his own time, a regular _normal _human who had helped win wars and save the galaxy without benefit of the Force to aid his efforts. She doubted Bastila—or herself for that matter—could have been so heroic with such a limitation. Juhani shuddered inwardly at the thought of a life without the Force. Yet Carth had faced such an existence, and made the most of it: holding his own, and at times, his efforts surpassing those of his Jedi companions. Despite these accomplishments, right now Juhani found it most admirable in the man that he was able to withstand Bastila's endless lecturing…and give back as good as he got.

"Oh no, I am not going anywhere!" Carth exploded as he looked up at her, his eyes flashing with fierce intensity. "If he thinks he pulled one over on me…well, two can play at that game," he said determinedly.

"Do not do anything foolish," Juhani warned calmly with deeper comprehension. "You do not wish to jeopardize Jiara with unwise actions of vengeance, do you?"

"I've come a long way, Juhani, I am not the same man who hunted Saul," he said as he relaxed, then smiled. "Don't worry, I know what I am doing."

"Well, that makes one of us," Jolee grumped. "So, do we have a plan, other than trying to charm him into staying with us? I am pretty certain that isn't going to work."

The door slid open: Canderous stood there, a pack slung over his shoulder alongside his ever-present repeater. HK-47 was just behind him.

"Observation: It would appear you were correct, Mandalorian. Shall I remove these meatbags from our path?" The whine of a blaster warming up buzzed through the air.

"Hey, not so fast!" Carth said quickly, both hands raised. "What's he mean, Canderous?"

"Stand down, HK. Let's see what they have to say," he said waving off the droid.

"Disappointment: Why you organics waste time indulging one another's endless prattle and whiny melodrama never ceases to escape the logic of my core, no matter how long I find myself unfortunately in your company. Statement: wake me when this is over. I desire only to return to my master." With that, HK fell into stand-by.

"So, what does the Council say?" Canderous ignored the droid. "Sitting around as usual?"

"They are meditating on the situation, so yes, I suppose that they are sitting around," Bastila lied. The Republic and Jedi collaboration was something Canderous did not need to know given the circumstances. Unfortunately, Carth was equally ignorant of the truth.

"Damn it!" Carth yelled. "They just don't care! We've got to do something, find her ourselves!" he directed towards Bastila.

"I am, so step aside," Canderous growled.

"Really, how are you going to do that?" Jolee asked.

"I worked in the Exchange for Davik, remember? I got connections, I can ask around," he said forcefully. "And I can get answers."

"That plan might just work, Canderous. And once you find her, you can bring her back here…" Carth began. Canderous gave him a sharp look of disapproval.

"I follow Revan, I do not lead her. I am going to join her, Onasi, and I am bringing her droid back to her too, so don't try to stop us."

"But she is with the Sith!" Juhani exclaimed. "They are all we fought against this past year! You saw what they are capable of. How can you simply walk away and join them?"

"I have no loyalty to the Republic or to the Sith for that matter. I answer only to Revan. She is the leader of leaders: it is not just my duty to carry out her command, but an honor."

"So you would leave all this behind, Canderous?" Bastila said calmly with detached serenity. "You seemed to rather enjoy not looking over your shoulder every other moment."

"I will admit this soft existence is not without its pleasures, but the decision is not mine. There is no right or wrong in this: it simply is. It is her choice, and I will serve her."

"What if this is not her choice? You would be throwing away everything you, and we, have worked for. And you would not be obeying her command, but those of her enemies," Bastila said.

"Don't try to pull that psychological Kath crap on me. You know what Revan was, what she did. This was always her choice—what you want is a fantasy made up by the Jedi, and playtime is over. Just accept it, and move outta my way."

"Revan was once a servant of the Light, Canderous—I do not think falling to the dark side was part of her original plan."

"Like you, Bastila?" he sneered. Carth and the others tensed and stepped back.

"Exactly," she said with surprising calm. "I was forced into it, Canderous: maybe Revan was too, those years ago and this time as well." She had laid her trap well; he couldn't wait to jump into it. "We have yet to explain why you do not remember leaving the hotel with her yesterday."

"Because I did not, end of story," he asserted. "Ask the droid if you don't believe me!"

"Excellent idea," she said, wondering why she had not thought of it herself. "HK?"

"Acknowledgement! Query: is it time to finally leave?"

"HK, did Canderous go to Revan's room yesterday?" Bastila asked.

"Apology: I am sorry, my latest encounter with that malicious and talented but misinformed organic at the party has damaged my recent memory files. I cannot access that data; I believe it is lost and the files corrupted. Anticipation: I am sure my master will make the Twi'lek meatbag pay for such disrespect; I only hope I am there to witness the carnage."

"Looks like we will have to disagree on this one, Bastila. I do not see the point anyway," Canderous dismissed.

"What if you were overtaken by the Sith, and they erased your knowledge of the attack? Would it not interest you to learn the truth?"

"I would certainly like to know how those lightweights were able to defeat both me and Revan; I consider that impossible…it could not have happened."

"Sure it could have, son—you think the Sith fight fair?" Jolee chided.

"Well, I guess I will just have to ask about it when I find them," he said as he started to walk past. Jolee caught him by the arm.

"There is another way, Canderous."


	20. Chapter 20

The battle with the Terentatek played again and again in my mind; I smiled as I remembered a new detail each time. It was a spectacular fight. Malak was in his element, power-attacks pitting sheer muscle against muscle. He was enjoying the challenge—until it seemed we might not win as the beast refused to submit under Malak's best efforts. I depleted my Force energy with periodic healing while augmenting our abilities with speed and valor. Of course we should have prepared _before _the attack, but calculating sound strategy wasn't Malak's department: I was the one who came up with the plans. His ideas always ended in failure—well, outright near catastrophe, actually, as evidenced with this fight. It did not take long for us to realize I had the better mind for such things, and he quickly fell into a pattern of following my lead on just about anything without question or hesitation. After all, each success garnered greater fame and honor for us and our status grew within the academy. Often times he would come to me with an idea and I would craft a plan for it.

He was right: together, the two of us, we were unbeatable. I would set our goal, he would help bring it to pass with brute strength and determination. That was more his style: watching Malak duel would make my blood pound in my ears. He was strength personified: fluid power and motion combined into a devastating force. He had no strategy to speak of: his tactics were pretty much hit hard and often—and it worked. I studied his moves and adapted them to my own abilities; I would never match his strength, but my small size gave me speed and agility he could not achieve. My strategy of employing his own moves against him with quicker strikes made up for my lack of power, and he was never able to defeat me outright, especially when we used our Force powers. He couldn't quite figure out that landing several small hits was more effective than the big crushing blow—never made sense to him, and besides, that method didn't look as good as that huge overwhelming final strike. He always went for the big bang, just like when he betrayed me. A sneak attack, but still flashy and dramatic. And like all his other plans, it failed; but to be fair, it really wasn't all his fault that time. I tried to remember the scene, the duel with Bastila, but it was hazy; the Terentatek fight forced its way back to the forefront of my mind. I sought to think of other battles; my single combat with Mandalore was an equally thrilling and glorious victory, but I was unable to relive it the way this day, some fifteen years ago, continually compelled itself upon me.

I realized I was actually trying to avoid the memory: I knew what came next. The fight was at last coming to an end. My attack was fatal: I had driven my lightsaber directly through the animal's skull—it was dying as it fell, probably dead before it hit the ground. But I never got to witness my great victory. That damn baby—neither of us knew it was there. We had rushed in, I did not study the situation as much as I should have, so I was caught by surprise, and paid the price. Again I attempted to think of another memory; again, the same battle was fought over in my mind, stopping at the same place. I could not get around it: I was to relive every last detail of that day. I wondered why. I could see now, through the filter of time, that this day was the end of what I was, the beginning of what I would become. But there was something more—the Force itself seemed to insist I see it all, minute by minute, word for word. I gave up the struggle within and allowed the story to continue. The images seeped into my mind. I hoped to get it over with quickly so I could move on, but the memory paced itself, slowly with agonizing detail.

I was to remember it all.

* * *

Juhani kept a wary vigil on HK. The droid seemed more menacing now, if that were possible, and the Cathar suddenly, ironically, appreciated what passed as his former restraint. She was uneasy and uncomfortable in his red glare, which he flickered towards her often, apparently enjoying the distress he was causing. Juhani struggled to maintain her composure and her unconcerned gaze. She turned her attention away from the droid and towards the small table near the window. What she saw there was a scene she never even imagined; it would have been funny, if the circumstances were different. Still, she managed a slight smile—that slipped quickly from her lips as she turned once again and met HK's deadly stare. She found herself silently meditating on a stun droid Force technique as her face returned to an unreadable mask.

Bastila maintained an austere and unwavering posture as she watched the events unfold at the table. Her statuesque form and stoicism contrasted greatly with Carth's agitated fidgeting next to her. He was either clenching and releasing his fist, or running his hand through his hair, causing his medals to clink and slide across one another. Bastila cast a brief look of disapproval his way, and was met with an equally defiant _"don't even start with me"_ scowl. Simultaneously they returned their focus to the two men at the table.

It was difficult to determine exactly what Jolee's expression meant, but Bastila and Carth watched him intently for clues. Canderous, however, was quite easy to figure out: dumbfounded defiance was probably the best way to describe his attitude. He sat rigidly still, his gaze drilling holes through Jolee as the old Jedi examined the Mandalorian's memories. How he came to agree to this was what truly mystified him. They had returned to his room, and Jolee began to study his thoughts from the previous day, looking for evidence that would suggest the Force had been used on him to make him forget or misremember.

"Nothing; can't find a thing in there," Jolee finally announced. Carth snickered, but Bastila's shoulders slumped in disappointment and disbelief.

"That is impossible!" she exclaimed as Canderous stood; he was still eyeing Jolee with extreme suspicion.

"I am telling you, Bastila, from the moment he left the hotel until the time we saw him last night, his thoughts are unbroken; there are no gaps, no time loss spots…everything is seamless. He never went to her door, never took her to the cantinas—he was alone, well, until Lena of course…" Jolee said clearing his throat.

"Satisfied? I do not blame you for trying, Bastila, but I think maybe you are looking in the wrong head," Canderous said off-handedly as he picked up his pack. "It was my word against yours, so you gonna put up, or shut up? Let Jolee poke around in your mind, see what he finds."

"Do you suggest I was persuaded to believe you were at her door? Preposterous!" Bastila huffed.

"You two had that bond—she knows her way around your head pretty well…"

"That does make sense, Bastila," Juhani offered. "What do you remember last when you were in her room?"

"We were in the middle of our conversation when there was a call at the door. Jiara got up to answer it and told me spending time with Canderous…" Bastila's voice vanished, her mouth hung open, her eyes widened.

"It makes her go away, disappear," Jolee finished her sentence. "That's what you told me, isn't it?" Bastila could only nod. "What is the next thing you can recall?"

"I returned to my room and began to research information about my mother, if you must know…she is supposed to be here on Coruscant receiving medical treatment. But I cannot say when exactly, or how long, I was at that task," she admitted.

"Well, if you ask me, it is pretty damn convenient that she tells you I make her disappear and then there I am at the door and she can't be found. I am not a Jedi expert or anything, but that sounds like a mind trick to me," Canderous snorted. "You are all fools. Each one of you. In your pathetic attempts to deny the real Revan you place blame and suspicion everywhere and concoct ridiculous stories to explain away the obvious. This was her plan, hers alone. She was not forced into it, she was not tricked. She wanted to do this, end of story. Now outta my way—you have stalled me long enough," he growled as he moved towards the door. "Come on HK, let's go find our master."

"Jubilation: It is about time! All this meatbag simpering was beginning to rust my capacitors."

"So, I guess this is it then," Carth said softly as he stepped into Canderous's path. "I do thank you for agreeing to that…at least we have the truth now, even if it wasn't what we wanted." Carth held out his hand; Canderous stood in uncomfortable silence staring down at the offered handshake. "Next time we meet, we will be at cross purposes," Carth explained. "I just wanted to tell you it wasn't all that bad fighting alongside of you, Canderous…I knew you had my back and we could all count on you. You would have made one hell of a soldier."

Reluctantly, Canderous clasped and shook Carth's hand. "You call yourself a soldier, but they only follow the orders of others. Warriors fight for what they believe in…you are a true warrior, Carth, never give up that fight, no matter what they tell you." Carth nodded, then reached up and slapped Canderous solidly on the shoulder a few times.

"Thanks," he said as they broke apart. "Hey, sorry I bugged ya."

"Hmmph," Canderous grunted. "You _can_ be a pain in the backside," he said, then turned to Bastila. "And you were a royal pain, princess." Bastila nearly smiled; only now did she realize he had made a point of addressing her by her given name since the party…since he told her he was leaving. She at last understood: these were meant to be his final words to her as a comrade and friend, and he chose to call her by that damned title. Already, she missed hearing the antagonistic tease. She looked away, willing her discipline to hold her emotions in check.

"I hope you find what you are looking for out there," Carth added.

"Yeah, good luck," he muttered. He nodded to Jolee silently, who returned the gesture. Canderous then turned to Juhani, their eyes meeting in the hard stare of the battle-tested. They both smiled, acknowledging the other as only warriors could. He returned his expression to his usual, unreadable scowl, adjusted his pack, and pressed the button to open the door.

Out in the hall, a sight awaited them that none of them ever expected to see.

* * *

Again thanks to everyone for coming back and reading this story! I hope you are still enjoying the ride; I am trying to update about once a week, but well, you know... 


	21. Chapter 21

Mission clung desperately to Zaalbar's arm; she had braced her body and dug her heals in, but the marks in the carpeting showed he had dragged her quite a ways with little effort. "No, Zaalbar, don't!" she yelled as he howled back. "This isn't right! Don't go!" The rest of the Ebon Hawk crew spilled out of Canderous's room and stood in shock as Mission and Zaalbar argued. The growling and bellowing bounced off the walls.

"What is going on?" Carth whispered to Jolee.

"Seems the wookiee wants to leave too," Jolee shrugged.

"Come on Big Z, wise up! You don't have to go through with that stupid life-debt…" Zaalbar roared violently, his arm swung high in the air, lifting Mission and flinging her away. She sailed backwards, landing awkwardly on her hip; momentum from the throw tumbled her further along the hall, limbs and lekku flailing in all directions.

"Mission!" Juhani yelled as she and Bastila rushed to her. The familiar whine of HK's charging blasters filled the corridor.

"Hey, big fella, calm down," Jolee said quickly as he rushed up to Zaalbar. "She didn't mean that, there was no need…" Zaalbar's rage had already drained away as soon as he saw what he had done. He stood there quietly, his head hung low, his eyes remorseful. He whimpered softly. "Yeah, you know how women are, especially the young ones, they don't understand. A life debt is very serious, Zaalbar, I know, nothing stupid about it," Jolee said attempting to keep him calm.

"You okay there, Blue?" Carth asked as he crouched down near Mission. Juhani was holding her hand and Bastila was rubbing her back. "Pretty rough landing, kid."

"I've had lots of practice flying the galaxy with you at the controls," she returned sharply.

"Heh, you're okay, I knew you were tough," he said with a smile as he lifted her up to her feet. "Looks like your feelings are hurt more than anything else. So what's this all about?"

"Zaalbar wants to go join the Sith with Revan, dumb wookiee. He says he has to because of that life debt he promised. He told me at the party that he was going to go look for her and follow her, all that stupid honor stuff. I have been trying to talk him out of it ever since!"

"Did he know Canderous was planning on leaving?" Juhani asked.

"Yeah, told him so at the party—he asked Zaalbar how to fix HK so he could take the droid along."

"So that's how…" Carth grumbled as he turned to see Canderous standing with Jolee and Zaalbar. Carth felt a little better knowing Canderous did not come up with the idea on his own to get HK back on-line to allow the self-repair system to activate; but still, the point went to the Mandalorian. _But not the match_, Carth thought. _Game's still on, Canderous, are you still playing?_

"Mission, I asked you to keep Zaalbar away from HK," Bastila sighed.

"I did! Just before I got Big Z away, we showed him how to fix HK's core program because you told me he wanted to help. I didn't know he was planning on leaving us—Zaalbar didn't tell me that part until just now. See, when I was trying to talk him out of this, I said a big smelly hairy wookiee running the streets of Coruscant alone wasn't the brightest plan—that's when he said he wouldn't be alone, he would be with Canderous and HK."

"I should have told you, Mission," Bastila said sadly.

"Don't think it would have made too much difference—he is determined to go…both of them," Carth sighed.

"We've got to stop them! I don't want to lose Zaalbar too! Those Sith won't take him in, you know that," Mission said as her eyes began to redden and puff. She looked up and saw Zaalbar staring back at her; he quickly looked down and away when their gaze met. "This is so stupid!" she grumbled, then marched towards him. "Big Z, I am sorry I said that…it's just, I don't want you to get hurt," she offered as she neared him. "I am scared for you; Zaalbar, this is big, and it is bad, really bad." Her voice was trembling. Zaalbar wailed soft and low, then gently brushed away the tears on her cheek with the back of his paw. "I know you didn't mean it, buddy," she said with a small smile.

"Mission is correct, Zaalbar," Bastila offered. "You are not helping by joining the Sith. Your life-debt is to Jiara, not Darth Revan."

"Well, yes and no," Jolee answered to the wookiee's howl of protest. "Jiara freed you from the Gammoreans, a Sith Lord would never have lifted a finger for you. You swore loyalty to the person who saved you, and that was not Revan."

"How many times do we have to go through this, people?" Canderous snarled. "You cannot pick them apart to your own liking: they are one in the same. Zaalbar swore an oath, as did I. You cannot expect us to go against our word, to diminish our honor so easily."

"Canderous, you might be accepted, but you know what they will do to him," Jolee spat angrily. "Wookiees aren't even second class citizens in this space."

"At best, they would keep him as a slave," Juhani growled. "More likely they will kill him on sight. He will never get to see Revan again, his life-debt will be forfeit either way."

"Stay here with us, Zaalbar; help us get her back: that is the best way to honor your vow," Bastila entreated.

"Listen to her, Big Z! Please, don't do this. Don't leave me," Mission's voice wavered. Then she hardened her features. "Ya know, that's it—if you go, I go too!" Mission stomped her foot in emphasis. A chorus of startled and distressed protests from everyone, Canderous included, reverberated throughout the hallway.

"Do the right thing on this one, Canderous," Carth almost pleaded. "There is more than one kind of honor." Canderous pursed his lips as his brow furrowed even deeper. Wookiee howls were nearly drowned out by the endless bickering and pleading from Mission and the others.

"That's enough!" he yelled at last. "Listen, wookiee, you will only slow me down. You don't exactly blend into the crowd, especially where I'm headed. It will be easier getting info without you. I can't stop you from leaving, but don't come with me, got it?" Zaalbar's wild roars and flailing arms were simple to interpret. "Don't make me shoot you," Canderous warned.

"Requisition: May I have the pleasure?" HK asked drawing his pistol.

"You two, over here, now," Canderous commanded as he pointed to HK and Zaalbar while moving away from the rest.

"Clarification: May I remind you, Mandalorian, that while I am fluent in the numerous languages and dialects of several species, I am a protocol droid second. This _will_ involve some form of pain and suffering with copious amounts of blood, will it not?"

"Shut up and get over here, tin can," Canderous growled indicating where he wanted them to gather further down the hall. The three huddled together. Zaalbar fell silent as he listened, then nodded. The rest stood and stared.

"What are they saying?" Mission asked.

"Can't hear, but it looks like Canderous got through to him," Jolee answered with relief.

"Got that, hairball?" Canderous said loudly. "I don't want to see you anywhere near me out there; if you follow me, it will be the last thing you do." Zaalbar roared forcefully in response.

"Translation: Try it and you will be pulling that repeater out…"

"I got it," Canderous said dryly, cutting HK off. "Any other time, I'd make you regret those words. Come on, I am done wasting time here." He signaled to the droid; without hesitation, or even a final look back, Canderous walked away. Zaalbar watched him disappear around a corner, then turned to face the rest of the crew. Angrily, he pushed past them and returned to his room. Mission quickly followed.

"Well, we aren't much of a team without Jiara," Carth remarked sadly. "She was the only thing holding us together."

"We will prevail, Carth," Bastila declared. "We must get her back, for her own sake."

"And ours," he added. Bastila nodded silently. "So, the Council really sitting on this?" Carth asked changing the subject. "I find that hard to believe, but I am not surprised. I was certain you'd be back here telling me we are charged with doing their dirty work again."

"Not exactly," Juhani muttered.

"Oh, we too experienced for them now? They need a whole new set of neophytes to send into the mouth of hell?"

"I must tell you of the Council's announcement," Bastila began.

"First, I think he should know about yours, Bastila," Jolee said seriously. "He has a right."

"What?" Carth felt his heart skip as he looked at the crestfallen expression Bastila had assumed. She took a deep breath and bit at her lower lip.

"I told Jiara something, Carth, something I thought would help her in her moment of doubt." Bastila then explained. Carth stared at her with confusion.

"So what exactly does that mean?" he asked.

"It means, son, her memories as Revan were not erased by the Council or even destroyed by the attack: they were misplaced, you could say, shielded from her by the Force. They were still out there, waiting. And it looks like she went out to find them…and did," Jolee sighed.

"So? She already knew, she already rejected her past. Why is this different?"

"She only knew that she had been Darth Revan: now she can recall being the Sith Lord, with the thoughts and feelings that go along with it. I am sorry Carth, the draw of the Dark Side is powerful, she may not have been able to resist," Bastila sighed. "It all makes sense now that I am no longer blinded by my own desires. As soon as I told her, she sought to get away; she used her power against me in order to obscure her decision to leave."

"That bought her plenty of time; we were distracted enough to chase false leads all the while. We were so sure Canderous was in the wrong: we never looked at the whole situation. We should have realized this sooner," Juhani admitted angrily. "We are fools, as he said. Who would have thought it would be the Mandalorian among us who reasoned rationally?"

"Well, I don't care, I am not giving up on her!" Carth shouted. "Revan was good in the beginning, you said so, Bastila. Jiara was also on our side. There must be something to save; the darkness can't be all that strong!" Bastila found hope in his words—for herself.

"Yes, Carth, you are right. The Council did say they felt her power was not very developed yet," Juhani added.

"Then we have time!" Carth said excitedly.

"Less than you think: I must tell you of our meeting with the Council," Bastila offered with a greater sense of urgency than Carth preferred to notice.

"Not much to report there," Jolee snorted. "It's all our fault, they will deal with it, blah blah blah," Jolee said waving his hands around dramatically.

"So they really aren't just sitting on this like you told Canderous?"

"No Carth, for once, they are taking action: I told nothing to Canderous, I did not want him to supply this information to the Sith should he find them. The Jedi have agreed to work with the Republic in full cooperation. They want Revan stopped quickly, at all costs…by whatever means necessary."

"Oh that's just great! One minute they're giving her a medal, the next they are planning her funeral! And you still wonder why people distrust the Jedi so much?" The words rushed from him before Carth realized he was standing alone with three Jedi…the only ones left to help him. He smiled sheepishly. "Present company excluded, of course."

"They left to meet with the Republic when they finished speaking with us," Juhani said. "Is there anything you can do within the military, Captain? Find out their plans, perhaps?"

"Ordinarily I would be uncomfortable spying on the Republic, but this is just too much for me to bear. I actually have been summoned to a meeting with Admiral Dodonna at o-eight hundred tomorrow. Beyond a lockdown and quarantine of the planet, I doubt they will have anything settled before I get there. I will find out what I can."

"And see if you can stall them a bit son, we need all the time we can get. I just do not see how we are gonna get out of this one," Jolee sighed. "Fighting the Sith is bad enough; going up against Canderous and HK won't make things any easier."

"Jolee, I hate to ask, but did you find anything, anything at all, that might help us when you searched his memories?" Bastila chose her words delicately.

"I was only looking for a break, Bastila, I was not there to steal his thoughts. But I did look around, hoping to find something. And I wanted to find it so badly, that missing time. The only thing gone and disjointed was the fight he had with you, the memory I erased; after that, there was no tampering. I would give anything for it to be otherwise, and believe me, I looked everywhere. That man has had some wild times in his life," he said shaking his head. "I thought I was crazy."

"So, any deep dark secrets?" Carth asked semi-seriously.

"Just one," Jolee answered casually. Carth, Bastila and Juhani looked at him with surprise.

"Well?" Carth urged.

"He likes us," Jolee shrugged.


	22. Chapter 22

_No, don't leave, don't leave me._ The words were distant, faint. _I am sorry, please…_ The voice seemed familiar, but I was having trouble concentrating. _Hold on, please, come back… I love you, why won't you… _I awoke slowly. I felt like hell. I opened my eyes, and forced myself to focus: Malak. I was cradled in his arms, he was gently rocking me. We were on the ground, in a filthy, sticky patch of blood-soaked dust. I could smell the death all around us…and on us. "Rev, I'm sorry…" His closed eyes were swollen and red, tears had formed muddy streaks down his face. "No, no, no," he murmured over and over in rhythm with his tortured swaying. I tried to move, then groaned at the effort. His eyes flew open, relief washed over him. "Thank all the powers of the Force," he burst and clutched me closer to his chest. "I thought you were dead, when I saw you lying there…" his words were halted. "I've never seen you down, Rev, never. You've never lost a fight, even to me. But you were just laying here, still, blood everywhere…I couldn't even sense you in the Force. I used every last medpac and all my power to heal you, but you didn't wake up, you didn't respond, you just weren't there. You were…gone." His voice was laced with astonished fear and confusion.

"Doesn't matter, I'm here now, and I know I'm not dead…I hurt too much." I tried to laugh, but it came out as a strangled groan.

"Your connection to the Force must have been dulled by the poison…I can feel it leaving your system now, it is almost gone; I can sense you again…the Force grows as the poison fades away," Malak rambled with relief and realization. I felt my strength returning as he spoke the words. "That toxin they produce must be how the Terentateks achieved their Force immunity, and how they triumphed over so many Jedi. Damn those things!" he spat with raw hostility.

"Did we get 'em?" I said wearily. He let out a laugh and quickly looked up at the carcasses.

"Yeah, we did. But I thought I lost you," he said sadly, returning his remorseful gaze to me. "I am so sorry, I should have listened to you." He buried his face into my hair. I felt his breath, his sobs against my skin. I moved my arm around his waist, to let him know I did not blame him. This was our choice together, in the end. We always did everything together. "I should have been more careful with you, planned…"

"Its okay," I started.

"No, it isn't, I thought you were gone, before I got the chance…" he paused. "Damn it, to hell with it all. This is the real lesson of this trial… that the end can come at any time, quickly. I won't wait, any more; I won't deny it. I care for you…I…I love you, Revan." I knew this already, it was an unspoken understanding between us; something we shared, but were forbidden to show, to act upon, to realize. Yet I was thrilled to hear the words. Warmth spread through my entire body. I felt his thoughts begin to enter my mind, leaving me giddy. I cherished the moment, savored it, then remembered our training. I pushed him away, both with my hands and my mind as I closed off our connection through the Force. He seemed a bit pained at my rebuff, but he was no less determined to argue his case on the matter. "I know you feel the same towards me," he murmured near my ear as he pressed his cheek into my hair. His emotion swirled around me, though I refused to allow him to enter my thoughts. Still, my heart jolted at his voice and his closeness. He continued to nuzzle me, finally resting his chin on the top of my head as his arms tightened the embrace and pressed me into him. I could sense myself crumbling…feebly, I tried to pull away.

"Malak, we can't," I said softly, even though I wanted to admit he was right. His hand slipped under my chin, tilting my face towards his. I looked into his eyes, large and soft, full of yearning and tenderness. Gently, he kissed me on the forehead. I could not keep the small gasp of delighted contentment from escaping.

"How can this be wrong?" he whispered, his breath throaty and ragged.

"We aren't supposed to do this," I protested, but not very convincingly.

"We aren't supposed to lie either," he said softly, his lips tracing down across my cheek. "And I love you, I cannot say otherwise. It is so easy to say, I don't know what I was afraid of, what I was waiting for. Why did it take this…." Our lips met, brushing softly at first. It felt like a spark, a small shock coursing through my body. His hand cupped around my head, holding me firmly as he leaned harder into the kiss. I responded in kind, my hand moving up to caress his neck as my lips parted in invitation. This time I not only allowed him into my mind, but I sent my own thoughts towards him in return. Our minds opened to each other without reservation, touching each other fully and deeply within the Force as our physical selves clutched and clung together. We lingered in the embrace, then I rested against his chest. I could hear his heart pounding wildly. Reluctantly our Force joining separated; the wordless intensity of his emotion receded, leaving me lightheaded and with an unsettling sense of hollowness. I considered Malak's words—quite possibly he had discovered a loophole, I thought with a slight smile. I weighed the evils: which was worse, lying or loving? I knew without a doubt lying was wrong. But this seemed so right; no, it _felt _right. My entire body ached—not with the pain from the fight, but with longing—something I did not realize I had been denying. Maybe he was right, this was our lesson, and I found myself eager to learn. Silently I snaked both arms around his neck, interlacing my fingers. I held on tightly as he stood, easily lifting me with him. I kept my face buried in his tunic as he began to walk back to the village. He stopped. I knew what he was thinking, and I didn't need the Force to understand—it was a long way to the estate. He glanced back at the darkness in the rock wall, then he looked at me. Quietly, I gave him the slightest of nods before pressing again into his chest. He turned and with sure, steady steps, he carried me into the cave.

* * *

Saying it was dark and dank in this hole was an understatement. Canderous slammed back the shot of whiskey, gritting his teeth as it ate away at his throat. He signaled for another as he slid the empty glass and a handful of credits at the bartender. He turned to scan the cantina's patrons: _the galaxy's finest_, he joked to himself. This was his sort of crowd…or at least it used to be. The Duros bartender stepped up to him and placed the bottle and a new glass in front of him. Silently the Duros nodded towards an open booth towards the back of the room. Canderous glared at him for a moment, then slid off the barstool, grabbing the whiskey and glass in one hand as he turned to leave. He shouldered his repeater and elbowed HK sharply as he walked past. "Come on, scrap heap," he grumbled. HK pulled himself out of stand-by and followed quietly.

Canderous eased into the booth and slid around so he could face the room. The wall behind him was pitted and scorched with blaster fire just at the same level as his head. That probably explained the slightly sticky feel of the seat cushion. The table was not only missing a chunk from the far edge, but it had well-worn grooves across the top—Canderous's elbows fit perfectly into them as he poured himself another drink. He looked around with contempt and disgust: for the conditions of his surroundings as well as for himself for noticing. This place was no different than any other dive he had frequented across the galaxy; but this time he found himself ill at ease surrounded by the filth and vermin. He would not have cared just a few months ago. But now, he found he had lost his taste for such an atmosphere. He had grown accustomed to clean sheets on soft beds, good food on unbroken dishes, and better company on his side…not to mention whiskey that didn't dissolve his flesh on the way down, leaving him numb, he thought as he drained another shot. He had lost his edge; over forty years of battle-hardened attitude nearly wiped away after less than a year with those fools. Worse yet, he realized he missed it; there was something to 'not looking over your shoulder every other second,' as Bastila put it. Knowing each night that you would wake up the next morning had a certain appeal: but then so did living the moment, never regretting things done or left undone. He had to regain that perspective: he would not survive among the Sith otherwise.

He surveyed the room; a fight just ended in one corner; Twi'lek females were doing their best up on the stage to the strained sounds of a holo-vid band; couples kept disappearing into the back rooms; and a small crowd was gathering some three tables away. Canderous took closer note: it was a Pazaak game attracting the attention, the unlikely opponents a Rodian and a droid. The droid's owner was working the crowd, offering odds and accepting bets on his mechanical cardsharp's ability. The Rodian was cheating—Canderous could see that plainly. The droid must have been as well, but it was not as obvious. As the match wore on, the throng became larger and louder…and less in control. The Rodian was about to lose, when somehow the droid's side deck was knocked to the floor. When the droid returned from picking it up, he saw a grenade sitting on the table in front of him. Screams rippled through the audience as they tried to push away. Canderous recognized it as an ion charge: harmless to organics, but deadly to droids.

"HK! Shields!" he barked at the slumped-over machine. HK came to full alert and pressed his shielding device mere moments before the blast detonated; a shockwave raced across the room, knocking him over. HK quickly recovered and stood up. "Report," Canderous said hotly.

"Statement: I have sustained no further damage. My shields were in place. I must thank you, Mandalorian, but do not expect the favor returned."

"Wasn't counting on it," Canderous answered. "You find out yet what your problem is?"

"Negative. My self-diagnostic program appears to be malfunctioning. After 127 attempts to run the sequence, I am receiving no errors. Yet status reports indicate I am down 42 in power, four of my auxiliary functions are not responding, and those programs that remain online are operating at 81 or less optimal capacity. Theory: I have been repaired with inferior parts by an inferior mechanic and I require an expert, such as my master, to return me to my full abilities."

"Those parts were just fine before," Canderous growled. "And you repaired yourself, so you can't blame me for your problems."

"Contradiction: It was you who brought me back online, so I am left to summarize that you have somehow managed to cross my wiring in such a manner as only the truly inept could have achieved."

"Hey, I fixed my basilisk war-droid perfectly every time!" Canderous yelled back.

"Supplication: I'm sure you did, but that piece of machinery was little more than a glorified swoop bike with none of the delicate and sophisticated systems I possess. I fear without Master's adroit skill and experienced touch, I may be permanently damaged by your oafish attempt to repair me. Statement: I shall inform Master of this gross incompetence. Speculation: This may have, in fact, been an act of sabotage, for which I hope you suffer greatly."

"Ya know what? I could have left you on the junk pile."

"Statement: Perhaps you should have. Supposition: I would have probably been better off."

"That makes two of us!" Canderous growled as he finished the bottle and slammed the shot glass on the table. "Tell ya what, since you are here anyway, try to do something useful. Your scanners working? See if you detect anyone familiar in the crowd; we've been waiting here too damn long."

"Acknowledgement: My scanners are currently at 24. I am unable to scan at long range for anything. Short-range parameters allow for organic pattern recognition, but I am unable to identify which organic should I find a match without visual confirmation. Query: will this do?"

"Yes, so do it already. I am bored with this place."

HK stood at attention and slowly swung his head back and forth. "I have detected at least one organic that matches a pattern known to my database. I am unable to identify the female."

"Female? Where?" Canderous asked looking around, hoping to catch a glimpse of Revan. He had been asking questions and dropping hints in dozens of cantinas all night. Finally he got a bite, and they were told to wait here for contact. That seemed like days ago.

"Statement: the female is moving from the bar across the room." Canderous searched furiously through the sea of faces.

"I don't see her," he complained.

"Confusion: Really? The organic is moving towards this location. Right there." Canderous traced the path of HK's stare. The person he saw approaching was not whom he had anticipated.


	23. Chapter 23

Hi everyone...all 3 of you! LOL. Sorry for the long pause between updates. Hope it was worth the wait! Thanks to everyone for the reviews and encouragement.

As usual, LA , Bioware, Obsidian, and pretty much everyone BUT me owns the characters and settings and stuff.

* * *

Carth paced the small room with nervous agitation. His scheduled meeting with Dodonna was going on fifteen minutes late. He stopped briefly to rub his eyes and temples: apparently he had more to drink last night than he thought. He tried to smooth out his jacket, but gave up—he hadn't changed since the party—his black dress uniform was rumpled and creased in the wrong places, his medals and insignia hopelessly jumbled together. Beyond his attire, he himself was no better: bleary eyes, pallid skin and a bit more than stubble covered his chin. Two days of little to no sleep seemed to be his limit these days, even with the handful of stims and potful of caffa he had loaded himself with trying to stay on his feet. Mission wasn't far off calling him old anymore, he grudgingly admitted as he raked his hands through his tangled hair. He pressed his personal comm to distract himself from the wait. "Bastila, anything?" he asked eagerly.

"Not since five minutes ago when you last called, Carth. He is still in the cantina. This tracer idea you came up with was brilliant, and the way you tagged him with the track-patch was well played, but it only does so much," she responded.

"Sorry, I didn't have time to pick up the psychic-Force tracking equipment," he said sarcastically.

"Does the Republic have such a device?" Bastila's voice returned full of amazement.

"I am not even gonna answer that, Bastila," he deadpanned back.

"Ah, I see," her answer was flat and toneless.

Carth could detect Jolee snickering in the background. He allowed a smile to spread across his lips.

"Mission should be back any moment now with a detailed report."

"What? She scouted out ahead and you let her?"

"She was wearing her stealth pack, Juhani escorted her half-way and to be honest, Carth, she fits in better here than the rest of us: this is an…_interesting_…part of town. Reminds me of the Taris Under City, but not as nice."

Carth could hear the revulsion in her words. He wished so badly that he could see her discomfort; it had to be a damn rough and seedy neighborhood to make a Jedi uneasy. Especially one of Basilta's abilities and demeanor

"I am glad Zaalbar agreed to stay behind—we are attracting enough attention as it is."

"I suppose you weren't going to stop her anyway," Carth admitted. "How long has she been gone?"

"Not terribly long," Bastila stalled.

"How long? Do you have a plan if…?"

"Carth, she has proven her abilities time and time again. I trust her."

"I do not trust Canderous or HK. That droid can scan life forms through a stealth field, Bastila. Did any of you stop to think about that before she ran off?" Silence was his answer. "Bastila!"

"Here they are…" Bastila responded after too much time for Carth's liking. Carth relaxed at the news; he hadn't realized how tense he had gotten. There was a brief pause. "She says Canderous is still in the cantina, sitting in the back; remarkably, he is nowhere near the dancing stage," Bastila commented with genuine astonishment in her tone. "He seems to be waiting; HK is with him. Mission believes there is something wrong with HK's energy cells; they may have been damaged when Yuthura disabled him, and energy cells are the only parts we do not have on-hand for his repair. He is going into stand-by quite often."

"That's a lucky break—HK would have detected her otherwise, you know that. Try to keep her from doing that again—just rely on the tracking equipment, and keep your distance!"

"Okay, _dad_!" Mission called into the comm derisively. "Gonna lock me in my room with no dinner?" she chided.

"No _shopping_…" he said with a smile.

"Hey! No fair!" she cried back.

"I hear the Admiral…looks like my meeting will finally get underway," he said as he looked towards the hall; he had detected footsteps. "But call me as soon as something happens. Don't stand on ceremony—I will interrupt my meeting. Onasi out," he said pressing his comm. He stiffened to attention and snapped a salute when Forn Dodonna entered the room.

"Carth, sorry to keep you waiting…at ease," she said with a familiarity that comes from years of command. "Come in please," she called behind her as she went into her office. "I have to say, Captain," she said sternly, tossing herself into the ornate chair behind her enormous desk, "you look like hell."

"Yes Sir, sorry Sir," he answered sharply.

"No need to apologize…take a seat," she continued. "You look about how I feel. I was just in a meeting with the brass and some of those Jedi from the Council. We've been at it all night, and we have little in the way of plans or strategy to show for it." Carth relaxed into his chair. "Well, other than to find and eliminate the target, of course."

"WHAT!" Carth bellowed as he bolted from his seat. Dodonna looked up at him in surprise. "You cannot be serious! You are talking about a hero of the Republic here, twice over!"

"And she has now turned against us, again. Believe me, Carth, I appreciate what Revan did for us with the Mandalorian Wars and the Star Forge, but there seems to be a pattern here; we cannot afford to allow this to play through. To that end, the Republic and the Jedi are in full agreement: We must remove this threat. The Republic is even more desperate today than it was after the Mandalorian Wars—it would not take much effort to overwhelm us completely this time. The Sith armada is still a massive power to contend with; with Revan at the helm…"

"But we can capture her, turn her back to our side; you see how effective she is. I thought the Jedi were against killing prisoners anyway," Carth pleaded. His throbbing hangover made it difficult to think, though he doubted he could have said anything differently otherwise given what he had just heard. How could they turn against their champion so quickly?

"They tried that before, and see how well it worked out. It would be a dream come true to have her on our side, but it is better to have her fight for no one rather than gamble on convincing her a second time. I shouldn't even be telling you this, Carth, it's a need-to-know basis and frankly, the brass doesn't want you to know. This information is confidential; it is not to leave this room, that's an order."

"Sir," he barked as he offered another crisp salute. His nostrils flared and his lips twitched.

"Carth, stand down, don't be so formal with me. I gave you that information as a friend, not as your commanding officer. They want this kept as secret as possible, to catch the Sith off guard. Having you and your team sniffing around will alert them to our operations: you are highly visible and recognizable these days."

"But they do not seem to care about…"

"And neither should you, Carth. There have been…rumors, Captain, and your behavior seems to confirm them. I cannot comment on whether this type of relationship is appropriate, I know the Jedi have certain rules, and we cannot jeopardize our working agreement with the Council; nor can we allow someone with so great an emotional investment to risk the mission or anything else. Am I clear?" Carth remained perfectly still, his hands clasped behind his back, his eyes focused on the back wall of the office. "Good, now on to the agenda for this meeting. First, I want a full report from you on last night's attack. I've gotten sketchy details, but nothing solid."

"Sir, there is not much to tell," Carth said, his tone direct and short. "Approximately 25 minutes after the start of the function, the Jedi escort left and we came under attack from a small contingent of Sith."

"Yes, the Jedi were ordered to reconvene with Republic soldiers posted at the dining hall. Details, Captain. I know this already. We have on record here a dozen to maybe fifteen troopers, some half a dozen to ten dark Jedi, Yuthura Ban, and Revan. They took control rather quickly; was there no resistance?"

"We were placed in stasis prior to the arrival of the troopers. There were seven spies within the ranks of the Senate, many of them with Jedi powers," Carth explained. "And we had no weapons. We were defenseless and caught completely off guard."

"Ah, the spies—we had no intelligence on them," Dodonna said out loud as she took notes.

"But you knew about the others?" Carth asked training his gaze on her.

"Not Revan of course or any other names, really…"

"I think you need to back up a little, Admiral. Are you telling me you knew about this plot in advance?" Carth leaned on the desk, his eyes locked on Dodonna's.

"Stand down, soldier," she commanded. Carth did not budge. She leaned back in her chair and took a deep breath. "Two days ago, we captured a couple of Sith troopers. Under interrogation, we learned of their plans to stage an attack on the ceremonial dinner held in your honor. We contacted the Jedi and worked together to form a plan based on the intelligence we gathered. We sent guards to the hotel, but you were not there…"

"Okay, that explains why you rounded us up. Why didn't you tell us the reason? We would have fully cooperated, you know that," Carth growled.

"It was determined that the less anyone knew, the better in order to subdue these rebels. We planned a counterattack centered around the information provided for the dining hall."

"You used us as bait?" Carth shouted with disbelief. "You took our weapons and told us nothing of the danger you placed us in? You set us up!"

"Captain, we had ample security provided at the hall where we were told the attack would…"

"I cannot believe this! Admiral, don't you think it is just a little too convenient that a couple of Sith troopers with info about an attack _happen_ to get captured the day before the event? They claim to have been here for some time plotting, and I would have to agree—this was too well orchestrated; their plan went through flawlessly."

"So you believe Revan was in contact with them, coordinating this stunt?"

"I did not say that! Yuthura said they had a slight change in plans: I assume they originally meant to humiliate us all, including Jiara. But, somehow, Revan came to be with them. I am not sure, but it is not right to me."

"I see, so it is possible that they had intended the assault on the dinner up until the last moment and Revan had them switch venues?"

"Possibly," Carth said weakly. "But I don't think so—no, the dinner would have been too ambitious for that small a group: hundreds of people would have been in attendance including Jedi Council members, hundreds more tending to the guests, not to mention the news coverage," Carth said, his voice becoming more animated and agitated. "No Admiral, you were fed false information all along, you cannot try to slip away from the fact that they duped the Republic completely!" Carth yelled.

"Yes, in retrospect…" she began.

"You put my life, the lives of my crew, the lives of the entire Senate and diplomatic corps in danger just to capture a handful of Sith! What was the Republic thinking?" Carth paced the room for a few steps, then turned back to Dodonna with a look of shock and realization. "This was more than that, wasn't it? This was going to be a grand spectacle, thwarting a Sith plot live on the holo-vid reports." Forn remained silent as she looked down at her desk. Carth turned his face up to the ceiling as if he were searching for the right words. "Since when does looking good come before doing good? I thought the Republic stood for something—justice, integrity…I don't know. But I do know if my life isn't worth anything beyond a good holocron entry…." he yelled as he reached for his medals. He ripped away his insignia and ribbons, then slammed them on the desk and pushed them towards Dodonna, a spine-chilling scrape and squeal echoing in the room as deep gouges formed in the mirror-polished desk top. "I resign my commission."

Forn Dodonna studied the pile of medals for a moment, then slid them back towards Carth. "Are you sure you want to do this, _Admiral_?"


	24. Chapter 24

Hi again: sorry for the wait on this. I post here after each chapter appears at KFM, and there was a bit of a hold up there... oopsie! Anyways, I hope this was worth the wait: it is another flashback, revealing more of Revan's past with Malak. And the usual disclaimers apply here: the characters and locales are all property of Lucas, Bioware, Obsidian and everyone else but me.

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Word of our dealings with the Terentatek reached the enclave long before we did. We had lost our bearings when we left the scene of the battle and wandered for hours. The wound on my hip still burned, slowing our progress even further. When we did not return to the village, it was assumed we too had been lost to the mysterious wild animal; our emergence from the plains was a welcome surprise. We certainly did not look like heroes, still covered in grime and blood, our clothing crusted and shredded, but we were greeted as such as we approached the academy. Throngs of well-wishers lined our path, clapping and cheering, some awkwardly reaching out to touch us. I was uncomfortable with the attention, but Malak basked in the glory. He was brimming with confidence: he had saved the day, killed the monster…and got the girl. Now, in the fading light of the setting sun, so long from this morning, I wondered if it had been the right thing to do. It wasn't really wrong, but it was avoidable, a choice placed before us. Had we chosen incorrectly? The code was clear, even if the Masters were not in this matter. What was the lesson, our final test? I began to doubt that we had passed.

"If you think we look bad, you should see the other guy!" Malak boasted, and the crowd laughed.

Self-consciously I attempted to better cover myself with the tattered remains of the front of my tunic, but the dried blood, sweat and filth stuck it in place, plastered to my skin in several places. I felt dirty, in every way. I sensed Malak's arm glide around my shoulders, hugging me protectively. He had done this before, but now it was different, especially the way he squeezed my arm with a firm hand. He looked at me and smiled as he did so, a silent communication of our newfound relationship. I smiled back, but the worry on my mind wore through to my face. He saw it and frowned, his brow knitted into the obvious question: _What's wrong?_

"I do not think the masters will be pleased with us," I intoned. My mouth was dry as I thought on our actions, the path we took…and the path that was now ahead of us.

"Why not? We did what they sent us out there to do—more than that! We killed a couple of the worst monsters in the galaxy! Just us," —he said tapping his chest— "two scrawny kids!"

"We did do more…" I said softly, my eyes trained on the ground. We were at the Academy entrance now, the door automatically sliding open at our approach. No one was waiting there to greet us—the Masters would never do that. We were both glad for the moment.

"Do you regret it now?" he asked, hurt in his voice.

"What if they find out?" I whispered, avoiding his question.

"Well I am not going to tell them! It is none of their business anyway." He huffed loudly, then remained silent for a moment, considering. "Please, Revan, tell me… are you upset with me, or upset that they may punish us?"

I thought on his words. He was right—I was more afraid of what the Council would do than remorseful for what we had found in each other's arms. He did not take advantage of the situation: _we _did. He did not take advantage of me: I went willingly, _gladly_. I pressed close to him, he touched his lips to my forehead. His arms slid around me, pulling me into a tight embrace. I wanted to stay like that forever.

"Okay, that's settled. Now, lets go get our robes so we can see what we look like in them," he smiled, "and then we can see what we look like out of them…" he grinned wickedly.

"Stand down, soldier, or you won't need to _tell _them anything…" I teased as I quickly glanced down and smirked. A coy smile slipped across his lips. Another quick kiss and we were off to the Council chambers.

As I figured, the Masters were not as warm as the crowd outside in their greeting. I explained the village leader's disgraceful hunting habit, while Malak described our battle with the Terentateks. The Council seemed unmoved by our heroics. Master Vrook spoke first.

"You are here later than expected. What kept you after the fight was over?"

"We got lost, Master," I said quickly.

"Indeed, lost," Vandar said calmly. "But you did find your way back to us, did you not?"

He knew. I didn't know how, but he knew. I looked at the floor shamefully, but also with anger. I did not want to give up what I had just found. How was this wrong? Because they said so? That was an excuse, not a reason.

"We ran into some ruins, Master," Malak blurted.

I looked at him with astonishment—I had told him to keep that our secret. As we moved across the plains, unable to locate anything familiar to guide us, we found a large burial site. We were drawn to it. We felt power there, but the door would not open. We planned to return, later, after some research. I knew why Malak brought it up—to distract Vandar and the rest from their line of questioning. It appeared to work.

"Ruins?" Master Dorak asked. "There are some mentioned in the archives. The ancient Jedi sealed that place and cautioned against entering. We have not been there; we heed their words. I suggest you do the same."

"Yes, Master," we said together.

"So, this is your report on the matter?" Vandar asked. "There is nothing else?" We both stood in perfect silence, Force walls strongly surrounding our thoughts. "Then it is settled. You have completed your assigned task. The beasts are gone, you two triumphed, _barely_."

"The Force was with us," Malak said firmly.

"So it would seem," Vandar said with something like agitation. "The Force has something in store for the both of you. Who are we to stand in the way of this destiny? Welcome to the Order, padawans. Congratulations, and may the Force be with you."

Malak smiled broadly, and reached for my hand. I tensed slightly, aghast at his public show of affection, especially in front of the Council. I quickly changed the handhold into a sturdy warrior-type handshake. I released him as soon as possible and took a small step away from him, again trying to correct my hopelessly ruined outfit.

"Go to Master Zhar; he will have your robes," Vrook said as a way of dismissing us.

"Good thing!" Malak chuckled. "We could use some new clothes!" he said tugging at his tattered tunic.

"And a shower," Vandar deadpanned. I could not tell if he were in jest, or how exactly he meant that to be taken. His face was a perfect mask of calm and serenity. I matched his expression as I stared back into his eyes. I would not be made to feel disgrace in this. I would decide if I should be ashamed on my own, later.

"I bet we do stink, but that monster's breath was a million times worse than its blood!" Malak laughed. "Come on, Rev, lets go check out those new robes!" Malak bowed quickly and sprinted from the room—he hadn't noticed that I remained behind.

"Yes, padawan?" Vandar asked.

"Did we pass?" I asked in a stern, even voice.

"Your task is complete," he returned passively.

"I know, but did we pass?" I wanted an answer, not this cryptic bantha poo.

"You were assigned a task and performed with distinction: you studied the situation and learned the nature of the problem instead of rushing in uninformed. You killed the beasts, thus removing a threat and restoring the balance of order to this place. This was a worthy victory; you both are to be commended. I am quite sure few others would have performed with such distinction."

"They would have done it differently, that is what you mean, with probably the same outcome. We were foolish to attack alone."

"Perhaps, perhaps not. What is done is done."

"Yes, but what of our final test? There is a difference between learning a lesson and finishing an assignment," I said as bluntly as possible.

"You speak the truth," Vandar said with a slight nod. "There is wisdom in you beyond your years, young Revan. You have an understanding your companion lacks."

"So we failed."

"That is up to you, padawan. There is also a difference between learning a lesson and passing a test. It is what you choose to do with the knowledge that determines your success."

"So, what is it that I have learned, then?"

"That too is for you to decide," Vandar's words seemed final; I would get no more from him on the subject. "Now go. Your companion has his robes this day, as he should, for he fought hard for them. But you have _earned _yours. You came by them along a much more difficult path—wear them well, Revan."


	25. Chapter 25

Hi all: sorry for the delay. Hope this chapter was worth the wait! As usual, Lucas Arts, Bioware, Obsidian, and pretty much everyone but me owns the characters and likenesses and all that.

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"I'm flattered," the woman said as she approached the table. "You went through so much trouble just to see me again!" She laughed as she slid into the booth.

"I'm not that desperate," Canderous snorted back. He recognized her as the false Alderaan diplomat. If he found her attractive previously in the billowing robes of state, his breath was nearly taken from him now. She wore a silken outfit that fit like a second skin. HK watched warily; he begrudgingly left his weapons holstered at Canderous's silent command of an absently waved hand. The woman let out a short laugh.

"Oh, that's too bad. So I guess the offer…hmm, how did you put it last night, to 'ride me like a war-droid in bed-battle until dawn' no longer stands?" Her smirk was slightly rueful.

Canderous stifled the urge to smash the empty liquor bottle across HK's faceplate to silence his electronic twittering. Instead he remained still, staring at her intently, fighting back to urge to keep that promise to her.

"I had no idea Mandalorians could be so…romantic," she giggled. "A true warrior-poet, I am honored to have been witness to your skilled words. I wonder what other talents that tongue possesses," she purred. "Are you sure there is nothing else you wish to honor me with?" Her full lips stretched into an inviting and wicked smile.

"Are you going to take me to Revan, or are you just wasting even more of my time?" Canderous replied stiffly. It took all he had to resist her. There was something about her, reaching into him, touching the right spots, saying the right things. The way she looked, smelled, sounded…it was nearly overwhelming. His pulse thundered in his ears, his vision swam; Canderous struggled to stay focused.

"Oh come now, Canderous, you have quite the reputation: it took little effort at all last night to distract you. But your Republic friend…he was a worthy challenge. He has an impressive defense in place: a wall around his heart and mind, known by a different name than the one he repeatedly mentioned to me—not even those he wants are allowed past it, so certainly I would not gain entry, no matter how long or hard I tried. I must admit, he is my first failed assignment," she sighed wistfully as she ran her delicate fingers through her flame-red hair. "I did not think it possible; my master tells me I have a great gift and destiny. One I am always happy to fulfill." Her voice wrapped its smooth tones around Canderous; his desire for her was reaching a crescendo.

"Observation: I believe this organic to be a Zeltron. I advise supreme caution and a close watch, not to mention a firm grip, on your garments."

"Oh really? What tipped you off?" Canderous barked at HK. In truth, the warning was a revelation: knowing she was manipulating him in that way dispelled the effect and allowed Canderous a clearer mind. If not for his sense of duty, he would have had her in the back rooms five minutes ago; now he was able to regain control, and composure. Well, his version anyway.

"An interesting protocol unit you have there. Does he often take such liberties?"

"Correction: I am…" HK began with obvious indignation.

"Leave it," Canderous snapped at the droid. HK shuddered an aggravated shrug then fell into stand-by. "I am here for Revan. I am tired of waiting," he said staring at her.

"You are not a stupid man, Mandalorian, you know how this works. You deal with me first. My name…"

"Means nothing," Canderous growled. "You are not Revan, you are nothing to me."

"My name is Maysaat," she continued, ignoring his interruption. "You should not be so rude to me, I have the ear of Darth Yuthura…"

"I don't give a Hutt's slime trail about Yuthura. Are you going to take me to Revan, or am I going to find my own way there?" he snarled through gritted teeth.

"You appreciate the chain of command, do you not?"

"Enlighten me," he growled.

"I see…so you just expect an audience with our Master, right off the street? Why, because you call yourself her friend? You fought at her side, true…but against us, I point out. You are nothing here," she hissed. "There are those among us who served Revan from the beginning, against you in the Mandalorian Wars. You are just the latest to try to bask in her glory. If you wish to join us and serve her, you must prove your worth, gain prestige in our eyes. Once you impress me enough, I may bring you to Master Yuthura. It will then be her decision to take you to Lord Revan. So tell me, why should I believe you wish to align yourself with us?"

"I am here, aren't I? I swore an oath to follow Revan. She defeated Mandalore; she bested us on the field of battle. I am sworn to her. Use your Force magic to prove it," he said resolutely as he rigidly pointed to his temple.

"I am no Jedi," she sneered. "My talents spring from a different source: one your Republic captain, and now you, have spurned. My…_interrogation_ technique is revealed, so it is rendered ineffective in your case: you no longer resist, you simply ignore my charms. That is easier said than done, I congratulate you. But this means I can prove nothing now."

"You are difficult to resist, I admit," Canderous snorted. "But I would rather cut it off than allow you to use it against me," he spat hotly as a way of letting her know she would be wise to keep from trying again. "With such gifts, you do make the perfect spy…among other things."

"Yes, including assassin, if it comes to that," she smiled maliciously. There was a sense of careless murder in her facial expression: Canderous recognized it instantly—he had seen it every day in the mirror. She meant business. "Consider yourself warned: you have started on a path you cannot turn from; you will either join us, or die as a result of the attempt. Your words are meaningless; you must act to prove your intentions towards us. If I find what you offer worthy, I will bring you before the rest. Do you understand?"

"You know nothing if you do not know the word of a Mandalorian is honor. Lies do not become us."

"I appreciate your, well, candor, Canderous," she snickered at her pun. "The Mandalore race can be brutal in battle and honesty—I decided to give you a chance based on this. But I am well aware you can lie if that is part of the plan."

"Fine," Canderous snarled defiantly. "Who do I need to kill? I am sorry I do not have the means to destroy an entire planet," he mocked. "Will the contents of this cantina do?" he asked as he began to reach for his cannon.

"That was the way of Malak; we have returned to the leadership of Revan. Cruelty and brute force are replaced by guile and cunning to prove ability and worthiness…and loyalty. Offer me something we need or desire and I will judge it. Tell me, why should I take you into the Sith?"

"I offer a plan," he said after a few minutes, "to get off this rock. Interested?"

Maysaat raised an eyebrow and leaned back. "Now, what makes you think we need a plan of escape?" she asked, crossing her arms.

"Well, you are still here, that's a pretty big clue. I know the Republic has the planet under lockdown._ You_ cannot get off-world. I can."

"You have my interest, Canderous, well done. So, what is this plan?"

"Ut-uh," he said waggishly as he waved his finger at her. "I want in, and I want to see Revan first."

"Saying you have a plan is not the same as actually having one," she said with irritation.

"I'm not a fool. You aren't going to get credit for taking my idea. Besides, you need me to pull it off."

"If you had this plan in place all along, why did you wait until now to speak of it?"

"Because I thought it was obvious and Revan would have thought of it already, so I did not think it was something to offer. But I see now you do need this. You are stuck here, otherwise you all would be long gone. So, this is my offer," he said as he assumed a stiff and defiant posture. "Take it or leave me alone."

Maysaat studied him. "Alright, Canderous, you have a deal, come with me," she said as she gracefully slid from the booth. She motioned for him to follow her towards the door leading to the back rooms. He hesitated. "You were so close to our outpost all this time, and you never knew," she snickered. "Nice cover, don't you think? No one looks twice at the various comings and goings to the private rooms."

"Not to mention mixing business with pleasure," he chided. She looked at him for a moment, then laughed. "Come on, HK," he said as he moved past the droid. HK pulled out of stand-by and fell in behind Canderous and Maysaat. As they reached the door, Canderous stopped and turned towards the droid. "Stand guard at the door. Contact me every 5 minutes. If I do not respond, do whatever you want," he instructed.

"Affirmative!" HK readily answered. "Query: Must I wait the five minutes?"

"What is this all about?" Maysaat asked with concern.

"Insurance, sister. This droid is a big part of my plan, so don't get any funny ideas about offing him, or me once I'm in. Got it?" Maysaat shrugged and nodded, then continued through the doorway. Canderous followed. He looked behind to see HK station himself at the door just as it sealed shut.

Maysaat guided Canderous down a narrow hall, past curtained booths and doors. At the back wall, they made a left turn. Maysaat continued, then disappeared into the room three curtains down. Canderous lagged behind for a moment, then cautiously pulled the curtain aside. He was just in time to see her finish entering a code into the panel of a very secure-looking heavy door. Locking mechanisms unhinged and slid apart. The door fell open and Maysaat quickly entered. Canderous rushed to follow; the door was already beginning to close. He bumped into her as the door slammed and locked behind him. "Be still," she admonished. A focused red light filled the room and began to scan from the floor up. As the beam reached higher and passed over them, an alarm began to wail. Maysaat turned sharply towards Canderous with a surprised look of reproach. A small blaster scope whirled from the ceiling and trained on the Mandalorian.

"What?" he asked with genuine confusion.

"Did you think you could get away with this?" she yelled over the blaring klaxon. Several troopers appeared and held their blasters level to Canderous's head.

"You've got a tracking patch on you," she said checking a computer terminal. She slammed the button to silence the alarm. After consulting the report displayed on the screen, she reached up to his shoulder and removed the thin translucent object. She held it up to him and cocked her head as she shot him a look of disapproval. Canderous could not contain his surprise and astonishment. His eyes were wide, then narrowed sharply to cold slits as he realized how he came to be tagged. _'Sorry I bugged ya'_ echoed in his mind.

"Damn Onasi!" he spit. "I swear, I was not aware of that!" Canderous roared.

"Even if you weren't," she said angrily "you've brought unwelcome guests to our door. All bets are off, Canderous. You won't be seeing anyone after this, much less Lord Revan!" She moved to throw the patch onto the ground.

"Wait," he said quickly as he reached out to stay her hand. "You must give me the chance to avenge this insult. No one gets the better of me, especially that damn fool Republic soldier. They probably still think I am just sitting there in the cantina…or pursuing some other entertainment back here," he said with no trace of irony. "You yourself said I have a reputation." He raised his comm and barked into it. "HK! Scan and report: anybody you know out there or in the area?"

"Negative: no known organic meatbags matching database parameters within scanning range," the droid returned after a brief pause. "Request: may I start shooting now?"

"Save your energy—I might need you in here," Canderous returned as he trained his slate grey eyes on Maysaat.

"Why should I believe you?"

"You need me sister. You need my plan to get off Coruscant—you can't hide your desperation to leave and I am your best shot. Trust me, this plan worked once already, and we might be able to use that tracer to our advantage and make it even more successful this time around," he said as he began to smirk.


	26. Chapter 26

Another chapter and it did not take a month! Thanks to all my readers and reviewers. I hope you continue to enjoy the story.

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"What did you say?" Carth asked, his rage suddenly evaporating at hearing Dodonna's words. "_Admiral? _But I was just awarded captain right after the Star Forge," Carth rambled as he remembered the surprise announcement at the first ceremonial dinner they attended.

"A promotion that was long over-due, to be sure," Forn smiled. "This also is too long in coming; you are more than worth this to the Republic."

Carth studied her as he considered the flattering words. His anger began to rise again. "I won't be bought off," he responded stiffly. "Are you authorized to offer me anything I want just so I keep silent and don't quit?"

"No, Captain, this was a scheduled event," she sighed as she reached into a lower drawer of her desk. She produced an elegant velvet box and placed it in front of Carth. "We were going to give this to you at the dinner last night." He took it with suspicion and opened it; a glimmering Republic cluster denoting the admiral rank was within, with his name engraved on a small plate just below it. "In the history of the Republic, no one has risen so dramatically in the ranks. This was unanimous, Captain, not a single dissenting voice. Welcome to the A-list, Carth," she said with a slight smile.

Carth was motionless as he looked at the insignia. It was all he had worked for, what he had hoped to achieve in his life….no, not this, he quickly realized. Jolee's words returned to him, of medals and honors and their worth. He did not join the fleet to gain pins and ribbons. He was fighting for a way of life, a peaceful galaxy for…his wife and son. He snapped the lid over the cluster and placed the box on the desk next to his discarded medals.

"I can't accept this," he said softly with forced control. "It means nothing to me now. I gave everything, my whole life, even what wasn't mine to give," he breathed as he remembered her last moments in his arms amid the smoldering remains of his home. "For what? To be betrayed in an instant. Last night you lead me into a trap; no wonder you were so quick to give up on Jiara—you don't even protect your own," he said with great sadness, resentment and disappointment. "After all I have done, all I have given and all I have sacrificed in service to the Republic, you have the audacity to sit there and place demands on my personal life as well. I'll be damned if I give up on her—she's all I have left now." Numbness settled in him, preventing him from lashing out in the rage he felt swelling inside. "So, no, I will not play the game any more, I won't be your smiling hero poster boy. Whatever problem that creates, you brought it on yourselves. I don't care."

"Actually, Carth, your leaving would solve a great many problems," Dodonna said with an edge in her voice. Carth looked up with shock at her callous dismissal. "I will not deny you have given more to the Republic than was ever asked, but you have become…a liability now, Captain. This commission is not so much a reward as it is a reassignment, to remove you from the spotlight. The…_civilian command_…is uneasy with your notoriety," she explained with obvious distaste at the mention of the non-military leaders.

"How so?" he asked, his anger finding its way out.

"Carth, have you ever stopped to consider how heroes, true legends, seem to have only one defining moment, one event that puts them above the rest? Why do you think that is? Should they survive their pinnacle of achievement, they become too well known, too famous to continue on. You have reached that rarified status: there is nowhere in this galaxy you can go without being recognized, for good or ill. Your presence on any mission will compromise its success. There will be those gunning for you specifically and others too fawning to dispute a bad order. Forget any recon or undercover work. Beyond inspiring new recruits, you have become too good for us, Carth: we have no purpose for you any longer."

Carth stared at her blankly; even though he was just at the point of leaving, being fired was a whole other issue…especially for being _useless_? "So last night was an attempt to be rid of me: my best role yet, a champion and martyr," he spat. "It seems I could serve at least one purpose for you."

"Carth, you do realize that was not the first attempt on your life, don't you?" It was a statement more than a question. "It was just the first one we were unable to stop. It was bound to happen, I consider us damn lucky it wasn't worse."

"What do you mean, not the first?" he asked, confusion rippling across his features.

"Revan may have been pardoned by the Senate and the Jedi Council," Dodonna began, "deals made, bribes paid, favors traded, tricks played…one or maybe all of those caused this to be swept under the rug," she said, her voice drenched in bitterness. "But the court of public opinion is not as easily swayed. Is there a life in this entire galaxy she has not touched? Mothers, sons, sisters, grandfathers…ordinary people otherwise, but we have picked up so many of them in security sweeps at your award venues…. all with Revan in their crosshairs. And there are still a great many Sith and sympathizers out there with a grudge against you and your team. Every function has had at least one plot, one assassin, one bomb planted somewhere with your team's name on it. Remember when your submersible was switched at the last minute on Manaan? Not because it lost a stabilizer. There was a cache of grenades with a timer discovered on it. Or the delay before the parade on Alderaan? Three sniper assassins were arrested along the route. Three separate, independent snipers, Carth, not a single unit sent for you. I can go on…. but I don't need to."

"Then why these parties and dinners, pompous ceremonies putting us all in one spot? Easier to kill us all," Carth grumbled.

"And easier to keep you all safe," Dodonna returned with a dismissive wave of her hand. "If we know where you are, we know where they are trying to get to you. Brass considers that pretty handy."

Carth could only stare, his mouth slightly agape. He had been so wrapped up in the glory of defeating Malak, bringing down the Star Forge, and starting his new life, he hadn't realized the old one was still all around him. He berated himself for not realizing the danger on his own; but he was a hero, dammit, and so was she. They shouldn't have to think about things like that. At least not away from the war, from the fighting, from the frontlines. A pit formed in his stomach as the words formed in his mind: they _were_ on the frontlines, still fighting. There was no place away from the war…just ask Telos, Taris and Dantooine.

"These damn parades are all publicity, Carth, you know how it works," Forn continued. "We won the battle, not the war. We need to put on a brave front: we need heroes, even fallen ones. Not too many know the truth about Revan, and even fewer about Bastila. But we know, Carth, don't we? Command is jittery and they want to know where those two are at all times. You know all too well not everyone welcomes Jedi with open arms: a couple of unstable former Dark Sith especially. Well, no sense trying to hide you, is there? The senate and the brass see this as a win-win all the way around: they watch you, we catch the bad guys, the public gets their morale boosted and hopefully the Sith fall further apart. All in one neat little package wrapped with a bow." Dodonna looked away then down at her desk. "I am sorry, Carth. You deserve better, you all do," she said barely above a whisper. "I protested, but I take orders, just like you. The only good thing about it was we were protecting you, or at least doing our damnedest."

"Why keep this from us?" he asked in complete disbelief. He would process the details later. Right now he needed to know why last night came all undone, why everything went to hell in the blink of an eye. The plans had been good enough to keep even him in the dark: why suddenly did they fail?

"I am surprised at you Carth, really, not realizing this on your own. But I suppose you have been…preoccupied," she said with a mixture of disappointment and amusement. "Would you have gone along with this stunt? Put yourself and the rest…_her_…in danger, even if it was the best solution? And what good would it have done to tell you of the attempts so far taken on your lives? Why bother you with them? Publicizing the attempts would have only served to embolden others, teach them of the mistakes and what to avoid the next time."

"Smart tactics," Carth conceded. "So what changed about last night?"

"Not our decision," she sighed. "The Senate was confident of success based on all the other foiled plots. They wanted to send a message to the Sith and let the rest of the populous know it this time. But it backfired."

"No, I don't think it did," Carth intoned flatly. "We know of seven senate spies: there could be more still undercover. The message that got out was the one intended all along." Carth slumped into the chair, defeated. He had been blindsided by both allies and enemies.

"I cannot dispute that, but I can tell you investigations are…" Dodonna began, but a chirp from Carth's personal comm interrupted her. She looked at him quizzically as he bolted from his chair and moved to the far corner of the office.

"Report," he said quickly. "Bastila, what happened?"

"Something is wrong, Carth," her voice was urgent. "We have been tracking the signal and it is moving erratically and further from the capitol. This is a complete departure from his previous behavior."

"I take it you have not been able to confirm visual?" Carth responded.

"He's moving too fast, too much, too unpredictably. Mission started out once, but the signal doubled back suddenly and she pulled away before being discovered," she explained. "It was her choice to do it, we could not talk her out of it," Bastila added hastily.

"Understood: I know you can't tell that kid anything," he sighed. "Sounds like the track-patch was discovered and replanted on a decoy," he said with aggravation. "Damn it!"

"Should we return to the last place where we know for sure he was wearing it?" Bastila asked. "It was just a run-down cantina, but things are not always as they seem."

"No, he isn't there, I guarantee it; the whole reason for the decoy was to misdirect and divert you from his real direction, which I am sure is the total opposite of where you have been headed."

"Carth, that can be anywhere!" Bastila yelled back. "I'm afraid the trail has gone cold."

"Then we pick up a new trail," he said with a slight smile. "Switch to the blue frequency on the receiver and reset the range to maximum."

"You placed a second patch?" Bastila asked with relief and astonishment. "But how do we know that one wasn't found as well?"

"It's not on Canderous; it is on one of HK's replacement parts. I placed that one first when I met them on the Hawk," he smiled remembering how he had slipped the tracker on the repair kit he had kicked, then handed it back to Canderous. As Carth had hoped, he put the kit right next to the droid; it was probably one of the first parts used. "The one on Canderous was the back up."

"We have a signal: across town, as you surmised," she answered back. "Are we certain this one is not also a decoy?"

"Can't be certain, but I am pretty sure. That patch is designed specifically to avoid detection from droids. It emits a low ion field that disrupts sensors, making a blind spot around it. Besides, it is inside him—won't be seen or accidentally knocked off. You know how touchy that droid is about anyone repairing him," Carth said with a laugh.

"We are on our way towards the new signal; I will update you when we have news," Bastila reported before cutting the link. Carth lowered his comm, then suddenly remembered he was in the middle of a meeting with the admiral. He quickly turned to see her staring at him.

"I should have known you would have had a plan and a failsafe in place," Forn chuckled. "And it is already in motion and producing results."

"This is a rescue operation, Admiral. I won't give you any information just to have the troops and Jedi make an assassination attempt," Carth warned. "This is my personal time, my personal life. The Republic can stay out of it."

"And that is a top military tracker and ion patch," she casually mentioned. "I noticed your name on the requisition manifest from last night, guess I know why now," she said raising an eyebrow. "Carth, the problem with your personal relationship is commonly known as fraternizing with the enemy. Jiara is Revan, a traitor to the Republic. You may not want to divulge any secrets, but a Jedi of her caliber could take them right out of your mind, or even plant false orders, force you to betray the fleet in any number of ways. You can understand why this would make the brass uneasy."

Carth hung his head; it had never occurred to him to think of the situation that way. Faced now with the apparent evidence that Revan had returned and joined the Sith, he wondered if something like this hadn't already happened. He remembered how she looked at him, as if she were feeding from his soul the last time he saw her…when he tried to propose just over a day ago. That seemed so long ago now, so much had changed. But one thing remained constant: he vowed to protect her, and he intended to do whatever it took to keep that promise.

"Just give me a little time," he pleaded. "Let me try, you have to let me try to get her back. Then I will take the commission and sit behind a desk out of your way for as long as you want."

"This is a fool's errand, Captain," Forn continued "but no matter how it turns out, one problem or another will be solved: you will find her and bring her back or you will die in the attempt. I wish for the former and dread the latter. Is there no way I can keep you from this?" Carth remained silent. "What if I told you the commission was to oversee the revitalization of Telos?" Carth now looked at her with interest. Forn smiled, thinking she had discovered his weakness. "Yes, the plans are finalized; we need someone of rank to head the project. This is non-combat, you will have no authority or even access to any other information dealing with the fleet; it is perfect for you. Will this change your mind?"

"No," he breathed. "I think this hero has one last mission in him."

Forn sighed. She had played her final card. She studied the man before her; what made him such a damn fine soldier also made him a damn fool; she knew all along he would never change his mind, and deep inside, she was glad he didn't.

"You have 24 standard hours," Dodonna said sternly.


	27. Chapter 27

A newchapter, and it did not take a month! Thankyou everyone for the reviews and following along. I hope you are still enjoying the ride.

Time for a flashback, another look into Revan's past...

* * *

"Look at these robes!" I squealed as I emerged from the 'fresher of our quarters. I swirled around to give Malak a better look: the dark hooded cloak billowed around my form. The robes themselves were amazing—elaborate and simple at the same time. The black and gray fabric flowed gracefully down to the floor allowing incredible freedom of movement while the arms fit snuggly with bracer-like support around my forearms and wrists. A form-fitting inner liner circled my head, showing only my face. "Where did you get these? They fit perfectly!"

Malak beamed. "They should fit: I had them made special for you!" he said with a stretched grin. He was wearing his own specialized outfit: the most notable feature was a wide high collar that rested on his shoulders and seemed to go half-way up his head. It reminded me somewhat of the Selkath clothing, only more exaggerated. "A gift in honor of our knighting last month. Sorry it took so long."

"They were worth the wait," I said admiring myself in the mirror. "I look taller—a definite plus," I announced as I bounced up and down on my toes. "So you had these custom tailored? Should we add fashion designer to your list of talents?" I joked. Malak snorted.

"Hardly," he said, almost wounded. "Here, this is where I got the idea from. I found this while researching the Dantooine ruins." He picked up a datapad and punched in a few commands. The screen lit up brightly. "See these hieroglyphs? They look like what we saw at the burial site. And see here, look," he said excitedly as he pointed to a small pictograph. At the top of a temple there were a number of hooded shapes in an outfit similar to mine surrounding a figure in a high-collared ceremonial garment. They were all reaching up towards a sun. "That hooded robe is the best and I figured you would look great in it…and I was right," he said with a smirk.

"But why did you go for that collared thing? It looks okay, but, well…" I stuttered.

"I wanted to look shorter," he said bluntly. "And this collar is reinforced—great neck protection." I looked at him suspiciously. I got the better set of robes out of the two choices, no question. But Malak's explanation was thin; I was sure it had more to do with the uniqueness of his clothing style in the picture—obviously this was a high priest or leader of some sort, while the hooded figures were acolytes or servants. So it did not matter to him how silly it looked—it held a higher office and greater importance. "Your robe is reinforced as well; extra padding and mesh underlay. It is practically armor."

"Now why would I need something so heavy-duty?" I asked cocking my head at him. "We haven't been given a single assignment since becoming Knights," I sighed.

"Well, uh, when we go fight the Mandalorians…" he stammered.

"We might never get the chance—the Council has yet to decide."

"But I thought we decided, Rev. Come on, look at what the Mandalorians are doing. The Republic is at a total loss as to how to deal with them. They have only two victories to their name, and one was because of your strategy!"

"Yes, plans that you sent to Karath behind my back. If the Council found out…" I said hotly. It was a few months ago, after learning of a devastating defeat over Althir: Malak and I stayed up night after night studying the Mandalorian attack and we came up with a counter tactic to use in the next encounter. It seemed sound, but it was risky and unproven. Malak took it upon himself to forward the plans to Admiral Karath. I don't know why they agreed to the plan, but the Republic carried the instructions out to the letter and sent the Mandalorians packing with resounding authority in the very next battle.

"Rev, that just proves we need to go do something. Your ideas and my enforcement will end this quickly. It has gone on too long already. How many more planets have to fall? How many more innocent people have to die before the Council decides to take action? They are so damn secretive: they have given no explanation at all for their reluctance to join the effort. It makes no sense. There is no way we can stay neutral in this." His voice was full of anger and despair. "They already got my homeworld," he said sadly. "Not that I remember anything of it, but just the thought…my family, my parents were still probably there."

"I know Malak, I am sorry," I said feebly as I traced my hand softly along his chin. "Just, they took those plans without knowing who I am. Do you think they will actually listen to me, this tiny little girl?" I sighed turning back to look at my small self in the mirror. The robes were imposing, almost sinister. But knowing what was beneath them reduced the impact.

"I will be there, they will listen," he said forcefully. "Besides, look at you in that get-up! Cover your face and they won't know who or what is under there. The padding hides quite a bit, which I admit was by design. I don't want everyone knowing how good you look," he said with a wicked smirk. His hands circled my waist and spun me around to face him. He bent over awkwardly, his face entering the full hood around my head, and kissed me deeply. The collar was in the way, but it was more his height that caused his problem reaching down to me. He usually picked me up, and eventually did this time, raising me higher as he stood to his full height, never relinquishing the embrace. Some six years ago, literally on his 19th birthday, Malak had his final growth spurt. Already taller than I was, he now towered a full head and shoulders above me—maybe even a bit more than that. I never grew again: the same size now as I was at 16. He lessened his grip and I slid down against him, gently placing my feet back down on the floor.

"The Council will never allow us to go," I sighed. "Maybe we could just keep sending plans in secret?" I offered as a compromise. Malak wrinkled his brow with displeasure and disappointment.

"That won't do: we need to be there to direct battles as they unfold. You know the Mandalorians change tactics at a whim; we need to be there to outsmart them as it happens. And as for the Council," he grumbled. "We are full Jedi Knights now. We can go anywhere; do anything we want with or without their permission," he shot defiantly.

"You know we didn't get that sort of license when we were knighted. I am actually surprised they allowed us to share these quarters," I said with a sweep of my hand. After our ceremony, we were moved from the apprentice and training dorms to the 'adult' sector of the temple, where the Knights and Masters were housed. I was a bit shocked, and embarrassed, when they gave us the one room, even if it did have two beds in it.

"We aren't the only ones," he said dismissively. He was right: many Jedi here shared rooms: masters with their apprentices as well as some obvious partners. We were surprised, but relieved. We had gone to great lengths to hide our relationship and thought we had successfully snuck behind the Masters' backs, when all along it was clear to everyone what we were up to. It felt good to no longer hide it. "They say they frown on these commitments, but there really isn't anything specifically against them," he said. Still, I felt a twinge of guilt, especially as I gazed towards the rarely used second bed.

"I wish we could get rid of that thing," he sighed as if he were reading my mind. "We could use the extra space in here."

"Oh, that would look great!" I yelped as I delivered a petulant shove to his chest. "Sure, let's just toss the extra bed out in the hall…here, Masters, we don't need this!"

"Well, we don't," he smirked, collecting me again in his arms. I smiled back; I was surprised he held out this long. Undressing me from my robes was one of Malak's favorite activities. I had stopped wearing my padawan clothing for that reason: he seemed always eager to remove them. But I could not get out of our training matches: after a rough sparring match he would always 'finish me off' he said, in our chambers. I stole one last quick glance of myself in my new outfit before the cloak blocked my view as Malak lifted it above my head and tossed it aside. The rest of my garments, and his, quickly joined it, and we were together on our bed. Malak was on me instantly. There was little in the sense of foreplay: it was more a systems checklist. His hands searched along my form, a random squeeze every so often, followed by a nuzzle to my neck, a nibble to my ear, and finally a couple kisses. He planted his hands on the bed just above my shoulders as if to lock me in place and began to lower his hips to mine. Our minds met within the Force, leaving me breathless with the contact of both his energy and his body. Like in all other aspects, Malak was direct and powerful, in full command of the situation. I could sense his emotions crashing through me, as if trying to become my own feelings. My fingers mechanically traced along his sides and back as his body hovered above me, braced rigidly by his locked arms. I leaned up and randomly pressed kisses to his chest and collarbone. I strained my neck, tilting my head backwards to try to catch sight of his face, but I could not see past his throat and part of his chin. His form surrounded, engulfed me; I had always felt overwhelmed as he moved above me, unable to see or hear anything else but him. He seemed to stage things that way; as if I could concentrate on anything else. But I wanted to _see _Malak: for once, this time, I wanted to look into his eyes as he joined with me. His pace began to quicken, I knew my opportunity was fleeting. I pulled my thoughts from him in order to surprise him; he seemed not to notice. Quickly I coiled my arms around his chest, locking my hands together behind his back. I raised my legs and wrapped them around his hips: I lifted myself to him, clinging tightly. I was completely off the bed.

"What," he grunted with surprise and agitation "what are you doing?"

"This," I said playfully as a small push from the Force rolled us over. He fell firmly into the bed and I slowly sat up, my knees digging into the sheets. "I have you now!" I teased lightly.

He seemed at a loss, shocked almost. I raked my nails along his chest as I smiled down at him, my eyes locked to his. A brief flicker of bewilderment and pleasure flashed across his face, but then his brow began to knit in annoyance. I felt his excitement shrink away as the thoughts I sensed from him turned black; this unexpected change in temperament left me confused and slightly dazed. His hands took me by the waist with rough insistence, his grasp aggressive and painful. Instantly, I was rolled over, my back pressed flatly to the bed. This time Malak leaned forward to rest on his elbows, his entire body pinning me down as he started over.


	28. Chapter 28

Sorry for the long stretch since the last chapter--holidays, real life...you know how that goes. There will be a few more chapters up regularly after this one, promise!

* * *

"Why did we not think of this sooner?" Juhani hissed. "Is this not how you escaped from Taris?" she said, her eyes narrowed on Bastila.

"Yes, it is, but," Bastila stammered. "Well, how would I know he would use the same plan twice? Surely he would have thought we would be waiting for him…"

"I can't get Big Z," Mission interjected. "It must be time for meal number five," she grumbled as she looked away from her personal comm. "Should I try T3?"

"No, bad idea," Jolee answered quickly. "If they _are_ on the ship and you make contact, they will know we are on to them."

"It seems quiet, more than I imagined it would be," Juhani whispered as they entered the port building. "Everything seems in order, no signs of distress at all." She scanned the halls. A few guards patrolled here and there, service bots went about cleaning and moving equipment. A sign above flashed the warning of the lock down. There were no civilians in the building; all flights had been canceled.

There was a strange calm around them. Jolee spotted a computer terminal and nodded towards it as he tapped Mission's shoulder.

"On it!" she smiled as she skipped towards the panel. "Well, that was easy," she said dejectedly after a few moments. "They really need to upgrade security here."

"Be glad they haven't," Bastila said tersely. "Access the cameras—are they at the Hawk?"

"Already working on it," Mission announced as the screen blinked, then displayed the Ebon Hawk docked peacefully in its bay. "Doesn't look like it."

"Strange, the signal is coming from this building," Bastila muttered as she looked again to the tracking receiver. "I doubt he would be after another ship. Check the other cameras. See if we can spot them. It could be we have arrived in time before they steal the ship."

"Ya know, Bastila, technically that is Revan's ship, and Canderous can lay some claim to it as well, so they aren't stealing it…" Jolee offered.

"They still aren't allowed to take it! How do you think he plans to get through the blockade?"

"Don't ask me. I am too old to be thinking so much," Jolee grumped.

"Or too lazy," Juhani said with a toothy grin and a poke to his gut. "I admit I too am at a loss," she sighed.

"I think we have become too accustomed to allowing Revan to formulate our plans in such situations," Bastila admitted, a tone of regret and alarm lacing her words. "I have to say I have no idea what to do after we find Canderous. I had not really thought that far ahead, I was too focused on finding him."

"So call Carth," Mission called over her shoulder as she continued to work at the terminal. "Ask him what he wants us to do, his plans aren't _all_ bad….just his personal life is a mess, that geezer nerf-herder."

"I suppose I should report to him anyway," Bastila sighed as she began to activate her comm.

"Go ahead, Bastila," Carth answered instantly. "Is the tracking device still working?"

"Yes, we believe so," Bastila replied tentatively. "Are you able to speak freely?"

"My meeting with Dodonna ended a bit ago. I am at the hotel changing right now. My dress uniform is a bit too conspicuous."

"Not to mention ripe," Mission slipped under her breath.

"Shush, child!" Jolee admonished trying to keep a straight face. Juhani simply turned and took a few steps away to allow herself to giggle freely.

"Good," Bastila returned, casting a reproachful eye at her companions. "The hotel is closer to our location. We have the signal coming from the spaceport. We believe Canderous is going to steal the Ebon Hawk."

"Ha, let him try!" was the confident reply. "I instructed T3 to ignore Canderous if he should show up and disable the ship if he tried to take it. Plus I deactivated his passcard."

"Well, that explains why we do not see him in the hangar. They must be holed up working on a plan somewhere in the building."

"Okay, sounds like we got 'em. Try to get onboard the Hawk without being seen and wait there for him. He should be expecting an ambush, so don't try anything right away. See if T3 can rig something sneaky. Oh, say, a shocking welcome… I'm on my way. Onasi out."

"Well, you heard the man," Jolee said. "I can't think of anything better to do. The ship still clear, Mission?"

"Yeah," she said switching the camera. A calm image of the Hawk berthed in its hangar popped onto the monitor. "But I don't see anything on any of these screens," she said as she rapidly checked each camera view. "Doesn't make sense, unless they are hiding some place. Are you sure they are here?" Silence was her answer. "Hey, guys?"

Mission turned to see Bastila and Juhani standing perfectly still; a cold expression and a distant gaze to their eyes. Jolee was breathing deeply, his eyelids squeezed tight, his hand gripping intensely to his saber hilt. Mission jumped when his eyes suddenly snapped open.

"Do you feel that?" he rasped as he looked around cautiously before turning his attention to the other Jedi.

"Okay, this is weird," Mission muttered. "What's going on? You guys are freaking me out!"

"Fight it," he said sternly. Bastila and Juhani remained motionless, their eyes still glazed over.

"Jolee, what is this?" Mission pleaded frantically. "Some stupid Jedi thing again? What is wrong with them?" She began to move towards Juhani, concern etched deeply in her face.

"Stay back, Mission," he cautioned as he held his hand out to stop her. "There is a dark energy here. A call to the Dark Side of the Force. They have been affected, they hear it, and it is difficult to ignore, especially one this strong," he explained as he continued to study the young women. "Turn away, do not give in," he said calmly with authority. Juhani's hand began to slip towards her belt, fingers playing on the edge of her lightsaber.

"Juhani, no!" Mission cried out. The Cathar wavered slightly, then her eyes began to focus. She staggered as Mission came to her side to steady her.

"Come on, missy, you can do it," Jolee whispered as he reached out to Bastila and placed his hand on her shoulder.

At his touch, Bastila crumpled into his arms.

"Over here," he said indicating a bench near the wall. Mission helped Juhani across the hall as Jolee sat Bastila down and propped her up.

"What was that?" Juhani asked, her voice shaken.

"They are here, that's for sure," Jolee grumbled as he continued to tend to Bastila. "Come on girl, you are stronger than this! Snap outta it!" he said with a rough shake to her shoulders. Bastila suddenly came to attention with a deep gasping breath.

"Jolee! That power…" she began frantically.

"The same as at the hotel," he answered with a nod. "Or damn close enough."

"What are you two talking about?" Mission asked.

"What power at the hotel?" Juhani added. "I did not sense anything of this magnitude. How could I have missed it?"

"You were out when it happened," Bastila explained. "There was a darkness. It came from Revan. And I have succumbed to it twice in the same number of days," Bastila said angrily as shame blazed in her cheeks.

"No need to beat yourself up over it. You turned it away both times," Jolee said. "And it is much stronger here. There is a great power somewhere in this building. Even when I fought against the Sith and Exar Kun, I never experienced anything like this. We have been careless in this hunt."

"Yes," Juhani growled. "We underestimated the Mandalorian. We did not take his commitment seriously, or his abilities. We misjudged him and now we pay the price. He has located the Sith and they know we are here. We have lost our advantage."

"Maybe not!" Mission quickly returned to the terminal and pulled up the Hawk's hangar camera. "It is still clear there. They are somewhere else. If we can make it to the ship, we will be safe," Mission offered hopefully. "Our bay is just up there, we can make it!" she said pointing a few doors down the hall.

"Okay, then let's get going. But be careful! We don't want any surprises along the way," Bastila cautioned. She looked down the hall: the short distance seemed to stretch forever in the uncertainty and danger of the situation.

"And mask yourself in the Force. I'll cover Mission—you two concentrate on yourselves," Jolee said.

They all nodded, then briskly and silently made their way down the corridor. They breathed a collective sigh of relief when they reached the hangar with no incident. Bastila swiped her card through the reader as she passed by on her way to the door. A sharp tone buzzed back; the door remained closed in front of them. Bastila frowned and passed her card through again: the same result.

"Carth said he deactivated Canderous's card, but seems he got mine as well," she pondered out loud. Juhani offered hers; it too had no effect. "Looks like he accidentally wiped them all."

"He isn't that stupid," Jolee scoffed. "Something else is going on here. Probably a result of the lock-down. No one can access any of the ships because no one is going anywhere. That explains why Ordo isn't here yet—he isn't exactly a wiz at security. He's more a blow it up, knock it down sort of guy."

"Well, it's keeping us out too," Bastila groused with a petulant wave at the sealed door.

"What would you guys do without me?" Mission sighed as she sliced into the terminal. "Huh," she mumbled after more time than any of them thought she would need. "This door has some extra security. I am working on the fourth level now. Nice to know they do have some extra measures in place somewhere. But it still isn't good enough!" she said triumphantly as the locks began to click and pull apart. The door fell open at last and they calmly walked into the hangar.


	29. Chapter 29

Another update so soon! Enjoy--here is a further step into Revan's past.

* * *

A final blinding flurry, and his weapon knocked free of his hand, rattling loudly on the floor as it skittered away. Distracted by the loss of his lightsaber, he left himself unguarded. I took the opening, jumped and planted my left boot in his stomach while bringing up my right leg: I intended to back flip and land in front of him at the ready. Instead of falling back from my kick, he absorbed the blow and doubled over. His chin crashed down into my knee as I was lifting it up, preparing my spin. His head snapped back from the contact. I was pleased with the unexpected injury to him, it must have looked like I planned it, but the impact stole my momentum—I would not make it completely around to land properly. I tucked tightly, extinguished my light saber and hit the ground rolling. Somehow I managed to stand gracefully despite my throbbing knee and dizziness from the tumble. I looked over to him: finally, he was sprawled on the ground. I pounced at him, straddling his hips as I crushed his wrists under my knees. Blood trickled from his nose and mouth. I leaned closer, noticing a glistening in his eyes.

"Learn your place, Malak," I hissed. "You will always be beneath me," I sneered. "Always, in all things. What do you have to say to that?"

"I'm sorry," he whispered as he turned his head to the side and shut his eyes.

I frowned, then pushed myself up away from him. My knee was burning now; I stood still for a moment to allow it to adjust to my weight. I straightened my training tunic and stared down at him, at my handiwork: his knight's robes were reduced to rags: shredded and tattered and seared with lightsaber burns. I smiled and turned away. I forced myself to walk with control and composure; I would not allow him to see he had caused me pain again, in any form.

Suddenly I noticed the silence. I looked around; a sea of faces stared at me. The training arena of the academy had come to a complete standstill to watch my match with Malak. Apprentices and masters alike were riveted. I saw an even mixture of shock and appreciation for my skill. I acknowledged none of them as I continued towards the door. Whispers and murmurs began to float around the room. A small boy excitedly tried to mimic my moves, slashing wildly with his wooden practice blade. Master Zhar grabbed him quickly.

"Settle down, young one, you have many days ahead of you before you reach her level, if ever." He turned to the assembled. "I suggest you return to your assigned tasks," he said sternly.

The crowd began to disperse. I made my way to the doorway, then allowed myself to rest in the hall before limping away. My knee was swelling at an alarming rate. I applied a measure of healing Force to the area, but that only stunted the pain for the briefest of moments. _Damn Malak_, I thought, _another wound I helped him give to me._ I began to think on how he would pay for this one when I felt a hand on my shoulder. I spun quickly, my light saber at the ready. Master Zhar took a step back, his face a portrait of shocked despair.

"I came to see if you were well. I see you are not," he intoned sadly as he regained his composure.

"I am sorry, Master," I stammered, lowering my saber's hilt and replacing it on my belt. "You startled me, I was lost in thought."

"You are in a safe place among friends, you should have not reacted that way," he admonished. I lowered my head and looked away. "This anger and hatred in you is…unsettling. They are the first steps on the path to the dark side."

"I am not falling, Master. My anger is for Malak only," I breathed, still staring at my feet.

"Animosity for one allows it to blossom for many. Once the door is opened, anything can enter—or leave you. Often it is not so much that you come to be filled with hate, but that you lose your sense of respect for the lives of others."

"Malak deserves no respect, from me or from anyone," I growled.

"You realize he was not fighting back," he said flatly. "He seemed uninterested in defending himself against your assault."

"If that is so, then maybe it is because he knows he cannot defend himself," I offered.

"How long do you intend to punish him?" he asked bluntly. The words were unexpected.

"You do not know what he did!" I yelled back as I turned my gaze towards him, shocked and startled by his perception. How much did he know? I sensed the heat flushing my cheeks: I was ashamed of the way Malak took control, took advantage. I never spoke of it to anyone. I quickly returned my stare back to the floor.

"I know he used you to promote himself and further his own goals," Zhar said with a calm even voice. My shoulders slumped, then stiffened. Did everyone understand how Malak treated me? Could they all see it except me? Why was I so stupid not to realize?

"So everyone knows what an idiot and fool I am," I grumbled.

"Is it so bad, Revan? You benefited from his plans, did you not?" I looked at him with confusion and astonishment. "His pride was wounded by your success in all he could not accomplish. He sought to share your glory rather than acknowledge it could never be his in his own right. To that end, he encouraged you to improve, hoping you would take him along. You lacked ambition, he lacked ability. You completed one other. Neither of you would have advanced to this level alone."

"Riding my coattails is an acceptable method of achieving rank in the Jedi academy?" I strained to keep from shouting. I remembered back to the day we got our padawan robes: Vandar had told me Malak fought for his, while I earned mine. Even then, I realized now, they knew he was using me.

"I do not think he was aware of his actions, Revan. His subconscious sought in you that which he wanted. In turn, you received from him that which you needed. The Force brought you together to accomplish its will. As I said, you are both halves of a whole." The idea disgusted me.

"He knew exactly what he was doing," I growled, thinking of his actions that day in our room, in our bed. "He should be stripped of his ranking, he did not earn his robes."

"Is that why you target his clothing so ferociously? Revan, if I cannot convince you to forgive and forget what Malak has done, I must ask you stop shredding his robes. Replacing them is costing the Council a fortune."

I looked up at him and began to smirk despite myself. He too winked and allowed a small smile to play on his lips. I burst out laughing; it felt good, the first time I had laughed in a long while.

"Now there is the Revan I know," he said with warmth. "You best get to the infirmary and have that knee looked at. That was an impressive, but foolish move," he conceded. I considered letting him know it was accidental, but allowed him to believe it was deliberate—it _was_ impressive.

"I will be fine, I am going to my room," I muttered.

"I am scheduled to return to Dantooine next month. I give you the chance to journey with me. Maybe some time away from Coruscant will allow you the peace that has eluded you recently."

"Thank-you, Master, I will consider your offer."

"And think on my words, Revan, I do not wish to see you give in to hatred and anger. I fear this thirst for vengeance can only lead to your undoing."

"I will, Master Zhar," I said as I limped away.

* * *

I had barely made it to my room when a soft tapping came from my door. I considered ignoring it; all I wanted to do was rest and concentrate on healing my throbbing knee. Zhar's words swirled in my mind; anger and hatred, the dark path…all things I had heard before a million times over. Forgive and forget he told me—never. How could I ever forgive? And I knew I could not, would not forget. Zhar did not understand, no one did; Malak deserved this, and more. I was more than justified to feel this way. I only wished I could figure a way to make him suffer the same anguish he had caused me. Beating him, humiliating him in front of the children was not enough.

The tapping on the door grew more urgent; _odd,_ I thought, _why not use the comm?_ Now curious, I dragged myself to the controls and pressed the button. Malak appeared in the doorway, still in his tattered robes. His chin was starting to bruise, the swelling evident. My eyes narrowed to slits as I reached for the door control panel.

"No," he said quickly, his hand reaching up. Involuntarily, I recoiled from his attempted touch. His face became pained and he brought his arm back limply to his side.

"What?" I rasped at him.

"Please, Revan, please. I am sorry. I cannot say it enough…"

"No, you can't," I spat.

"I miss you," he said sadly after a pause.

"I'm sure you do!" I roared back. "It's funny, now that I think about it—how you stood on me to make yourself even taller. Hmmph, you basked in my light for so long, you cast _my_ shadow."

"No, that's not what I mean…I miss who you were," he said avoiding my eyes.

"That Revan is gone, dead," I yelled, realizing it myself as I said the words. "You killed her. I was naive, innocent, I admit it. You took advantage, took it away, and I let you. Maybe I should thank you for the lesson."

He winced at the outburst, his eyes squeezing shut tightly. He slumped a bit as he turned his head away.

"I trusted you, I thought you loved me," I whispered, my voice failing as unguarded thoughts tumbled from my lips.

"I did…I do," he returned quickly.

I snorted incredulously. "So, if that is love, then I know why the Masters forbid it. I would have been much better off without your _affection_."

"I know," he breathed. "I want to try to make it right. You've lost your way. I want to help you find it again. It is the only thing I can think of to make it up to you."

"Make it up!" I simply could not believe what I was hearing. "As if I could ever trust you again after how you treated me, what you did." My voice became shrill and thin.

"I didn't know what I was doing," he began.

"You pretend to stand there claiming ignorance? You knew exactly what you were doing when you threw me down and…" I could not bring myself to say any more, but the memory commanded my mind. When he had finished, he sat at the edge of the bed, his face in his hands, his shoulders hunched over. I quietly got up, collected my things and left—I never returned.

"I know what I did, I didn't know why. I understand now," he pleaded. "I did not realize it fully at the time, but I was jealous, Revan, of all your talent, the way the Force came to you so easily, the way you bested me at everything. Worse yet, you did not even appreciate your power, how effortlessly you defeated me. It was all a game to you. You weren't even trying and you still did everything better than I could. There was only one thing I could do that you could not. So that day, when you took control, looked down at me…."

"That's not…" I started, but the words froze in my throat. I felt tears stinging in my eyes; the first time I cried over the incident. "I never treated you or even thought of you as anything but my friend, my equal, my partner," I choked out, my voice cracking in an unsteady warble. "That day, that time seemed special, and I wanted to look into your eyes, share that moment, our togetherness," I sobbed, my words heaving out unevenly.

Malak slumped against the doorframe and slid to the floor as his knees buckled. I suppose he didn't know why I had taken that action, why I wanted to be that way with him, and learning the truth, the reason, crushed him. Through the Force I felt his despair, his sense of loss and anguish. There was a stabbing pain in his heart with each tortured beat. He pounded his fist on the ground as he remained a crumpled heap at my feet. He genuinely regretted it all, even more so now. Maybe until that point he thought he had a small measure of justification for what he did, but hearing me explain erased this last shred of pride and righteousness, this false hope of his that just a little, he wasn't completely in the wrong.

Something deep inside of me fluttered, and I smiled. I had finally hurt him as thoroughly as he had hurt me. I had taken something from him, that feeling of security that comes only from a lie one tells the self to make things all right. He knew just how wrong he had been, in every way, and it spiked through him with an unimaginable agony. I wanted to make sure he would know this pain every day of his life, as I did. I struggled to hide my smile as I realized how I would repay his "love." So he thought he could atone, he could pick up the pieces and glue me back together? Fine, let him think that: I would willfully go against his counsel at every turn, do things that wounded him to witness by my hand… and I would keep him at my side so he would miss none of it.


	30. Chapter 30

Oh look, another update already! I am trying to keep to a scedule, but I cannot make any promises. Many thanks for the few and proud who have stuck with me this long and left me feedback. I hope you are enjoying the ride!

* * *

"Imbeciles," Canderous thought to himself. "Idiots one and all, down to the last man."

His voice rattled with grumpy annoyance in his mind. He stood guard at the foot of the freighter's boarding ramp, watching Sith agents load containers and boxes of pilfered supplies from the hangar. They should have been gone by now—long gone. There was no mystery in his mind how Revan came to rule these morons; or how much the Sith needed her leadership. This was foolishness; every passing minute increased the chance they would be caught…and the chance that the others would figure out their little tracer trick had been discovered. He knew them; this surely would be the first place they would look, or at least regroup.

"Enough," he growled under his breath. He turned to march up the ramp just as Maysaat bounded out excitedly.

"Canderous!" she yipped joyfully, a broad smile dancing across her face. "Just as you said…except the Wookiee smell…" she added with a wrinkled nose.

"Hadn't noticed," he grunted back. "Why are we still here? Where is Revan?"

"We have sent word, now that the ship is secured. Darth Yuthura and Lord Revan are on their way. They need to gather a few items from the base and they will be here."

"What took so long? The ship was secured as soon as we entered the hangar!" he yelled back.

The plan had worked better than even Canderous had anticipated. The ICE card he used to slice the system allowed him access to every bay and door in the spaceport; he simply walked past security and onto the ship. Not a single shot had been fired, much to the endless annoyance and disappointment of HK.

"We should have left at once. Time is fleeting in this!" he shouted.

"Follow you blindly? Lead us into a trap, perhaps? We had to make sure, especially after the tracking patch. But I am happy you did not disappoint," she said with a sly grin, her hand reaching up to his cheek. Her fingers began to stroke along his jaw and she pressed dangerously close to his body, her curves brushing against him. Canderous pulled away from her touch. Undaunted, she continued to paw at him, slipping her hand onto his hip as she positioned herself again against him, making sure contact was made in the most obvious places. Deliberately and slowly, she raised herself on her toes, causing a sensual slide up his body. "We are on the same side, my friend," she whispered as she leaned into him, her lips close to his face, "no need to pretend you don't want…"

"I want to see Revan," he stated flatly as he turned from her and resumed his guard position.

Maysaat stumbled at the sudden loss of his support and nearly tripped down the rest of the ramp. "You will change your mind," she vowed. "Once you know what you are missing, you will beg."

"You're the only one begging here, sweetheart. Can't say as I blame ya."

Maysaat glowered at his back, then stormed into the ship, barely avoiding HK as he emerged from the hold.

"Statement: I have never wanted so badly to kill a meatbag as I wish to excoriate that Zeltron. I desire to terminate that organic even more than Yuka Laka." An angry buzzing vibrated from the droid. "Exclamation: Boxes! I am ordered to carry boxes! My genius engineering and programming, reduced to being a porter? Declaration: Oh, that meatbag will pay…how they all will rue the day…I will greatly enjoy watching them all suffer. Observation: I find the thought most soothing."

"Not now," Canderous growled.

"Query: upon the return of the Master, which should I ask for first? To be properly repaired, or permission to choke the useless breath from that organic's scrawny neck? I find either prospect equally satisfying."

"You'll get your chance to ask soon enough. Revan is finally on her way," Canderous huffed. "So let's get the next phase of this plan started. Let's hear your impression of Onasi."

"Clarification: excuse me?"

"We need to get flight clearance codes in order to get off world. Best way to do that is for Carth to ask for them. Since he isn't exactly willing to help us out, it is up to you to sound like him. So, let's hear it," Canderous moved his hand in a rolling motion, encouraging the droid to speak up.

HK paused, then made a small series of electronic coughs, as if clearing his throat. "Impression: Oh woe is me!" HK began as he slouched forward and waved his hands melodramatically. Carth's voice filled the air, with only the slightest trace of mechanical drone. "Angst: My mentor betrayed me so I cannot trust anyone, anywhere! My son is an obnoxious, insufferable whiney meatbag who cannot behave. My above average piloting skills and marginal fighting ability lend me some measure of confidence, which I sorely lack in all other areas of my pathetic existence.

"Melodrama: While I claim to expect the unexpected, I am constantly surprised and aghast at events unfolding around me, which I then complain and whine about at length.

"Distress: I appear completely incapable of grooming myself properly as these two strands of hair remain ever out of place and I cannot seem to position myself close enough to a shaving device in order to remove this disturbing facial growth. My fashion sense is clearly nonexistent as evidenced by my choice of apparel—oh that jacket!

"Delusion: I can find nothing better to do with my insignificant self than to follow Master and…"

"Alright!" Canderous shouted, too angry to laugh, but damn close to it anyways. "Got that out of your system? Now do it right!"

"Confusion: Was that not correct? I found it a perfect impression of that simpering meatbag pilot."

"Listen, scrap heap, no funny business. You need to get up in that cockpit and radio in for the security launch codes, and you need to make them believe Onasi is asking for them. Got it?"

"Comprehension: Ah, I see. You wish me to _impersonate_ the human. Query: Why did you not say so?" With that HK turned and took himself up the ramp, heading towards the darkness of the cargo bay.

Canderous breathed hotly as he watched the droid stomp away. He was certain the pile of junk was defiant on purpose, just enough to be annoying without being disobedient. Why HK was following his orders anyway was an interesting question. HK was fully autonomous and had never been subject to a purge; the data collected over the years had formed an unusually strong personality in the droid, an uncommon sense of self. He could, at any moment, act on any of his desires, and Canderous had no doubt that one of them was to kill him—not too difficult a conclusion, given the droid's deep appreciation for violence equaled only by his hatred for everything living. Without Revan to hold him in check, HK was capable of anything. But now, now that she had turned, would Revan place such restrictions on him? Canderous scowled darkly; he had to get to Revan first. He realized asking to kill Maysaat was not the only request HK would have for his master. He snarled at the retreating red metal as it vanished into the ship's hold, but his thoughts were quickly interrupted by a familiar sound behind him.

"About damn time," he grumbled to himself. He turned when he heard the door opening and looked up, expecting to see Revan, but saw his former teammates stroll in. They were completely off guard.

Canderous took aim.


	31. Chapter 31

A voice called from somewhere behind me; the ship was secure. We were clear to move out. I remained still; I felt weak, my mind locked on the past. More voices swirled around me, urging quickness and care. I sensed I was being lifted; I could not even offer protest, let alone act against it. My feet came to be on the ground; mechanically, I moved along, relying on my present day guides. My vision saw only shadows in a time long passed, long forgotten…until now.

* * *

"A word, Revan."

My shoulders slumped as I slowed my pace. I was hoping to make it into the Council chambers to meet with the Academy masters upon our arrival, but Zhar was able to catch me just past the courtyard. I had avoided him on the trip here from Coruscant by feigning sleep in my quarters the entire journey. I turned to face him with a practiced smile.

"Yes, Master Zhar?" I said sweetly. Though his expression was placid and calm, I could tell he was upset and concerned.

"I invited you here to Dantooine in order to get away from your troubles," he said motioning to Malak as he vanished around the corner "but you have packed them and brought them along. Explain yourself," he said sternly, "and I _will _have an answer this time."

"Forgive and forget, Master. I took your advice."

"Ah, but you have neither forgiven nor forgotten, Revan. There is still pain in your heart and it seems only to have grown. These are dangerous emotions you toy with."

"I cannot simply turn my back on what has happened," I said softly. "I need time, I am trying, Master. What better way than to confront my anger to its face? It would do me no good to run away from my demons."

Zhar studied me a moment. "I see next time I ask for an answer from you, I will need to be more specific," he sighed. "Be aware, my student, when you lead someone towards a fall, you must yourself head towards the brink. More often than not, you both go over the edge in the end."

I stood before him silently smiling. I wasn't going to fall; I was already down, and Malak was going to join me for what he had done to put me there.

"Let us go," he said evenly as he walked past me, "we should not keep Vandar and the others waiting."

I followed briskly behind his lead. As we entered the Council room, I saw Malak chatting with Master Dorak. Their conversation ended abruptly as I approached.

"Ah, good," Vandar said as I took up a position next to Malak. "We are pleased to see you both again, and you too, Master Zhar. Your return is well timed."

"How so?" Zhar asked quickly.

"We have had troubles of late surrounding the ancient ruins. Two treasure seekers recently attempted to break the seal to the site, and this has piqued the curiosity of some of the more impulsive and headstrong students," Vrook grumbled. "It is increasingly difficult to keep the apprentices in line. There seems to be a contest as to who can get into the ruins first."

I tensed in reaction to the news, yet Malak seemed unaffected; I suspected this is what he and Dorak were discussing. Since discovering the ruins the day of our padawan trial, Malak and I had researched for more information, but we were finding little. We had hoped to use the academy's computers to further research why the Jedi had banned the site, but now, obviously, there would be extra security on the files, if not at the ruins themselves. Malak must have been trying to worm information from Dorak as Zhar and I arrived.

"We offer our assistance," I began. "Would you like us to patrol the area?"

"I see no need," Vandar intoned. "The Force seal around the entry is very powerful. I prefer no one go near the ruins at all, the temptation is too great to learn its dark secrets. To that end, I think we need to keep the students distracted."

"And tired," Zhar said with a slight smile. "Our two young knights here have some skill in the sparring arena. Shall we set up some training sessions?"

"Indeed," Vandar said with enthusiasm, his ears standing to attention. "It is well known how you two defeated a Terentatek while still apprentices."

Malak smiled broadly at the mention of the battle so long ago. It would seem we had become legends; this at least explained the awe the students greeted us with as we disembarked from our transport.

"And I have heard of your talent growing ever stronger since that day. I am interested in seeing a demonstration myself. Are you two up for the challenge?"

"Challenge?" Malak asked. In truth, I saw no real threat either from a bunch of children and padawans. What challenge could he mean?

"What say you, Master Zhar? A tournament, perhaps?" Vandar asked. Both Zhar and Vrook nodded in knowing appreciation.

"Yes, this would keep them to their studies," Vrook mused. "Say, to attend a showing? Or even win an opportunity to train and duel with our guests?"

"Many here are spoiling for a way to test their abilities, this is true. This arrangement may serve many ends," Zhar said as he glanced towards me. "How about a match tonight, to display your expertise? This will most assuredly take the students' minds from the ruins."

I gave Zhar an agitated stare, then looked nervously at Malak; I was unsure I could hold back against him, even in an exhibition for the students…and Zhar knew it. He was actually counting on it.

"Excellent idea, Master Zhar," Dorak said with bold approval. "Maybe, I will be inclined to join the fun, if they are indeed as skilled as you claim!"

"Master!" Malak said with alarm.

"You don't think it is just the students itching to pit themselves against a worthy opponent," Vandar said with a small grin. "Make an announcement: all students completing their assigned tasks will tonight be allowed to attend a dueling exhibition featuring our heralded knights here, and perhaps a couple of their teachers."

Zhar nodded, then turned and left. Now he was avoiding me; he had cornered me into this arrangement, and I would need to play along. It should not be all that difficult, I decided; I had a new plan to cause Malak pain, and it really had nothing to do with the arena. Yes, this would serve many ends, I concluded—all my own.

* * *

"You let him win," Malak whispered as we made our way from the arena.

"No I didn't," I insisted. "I had no idea master Vandar could move like that. He was making me dizzy."

"Ha! I could follow his movements, I know you could. You think he realized you let him claim victory?"

"Okay, maybe I did hold back some, but he still would have won…probably. Besides, bad form to beat a master in his own school. It looked like I tried, right?" I asked nervously.

Malak laughed. "I knew you let him off easy! It looked decent enough, the students were impressed."

"Good, they need to be kept focused away from the ruins," I said flatly. Malak darkened at the mention. He cast furtive glances around the hall, then leaned a little closer to me. I struggled to keep from pulling away.

"I was speaking with Master Dorak about them. He did some searching in the old archives as a result of the recent interest. He only knows there is a great dark power at the site. He thinks it might be a temple, rather than a burial mound."

"Really? Like the pictograph you found?" I asked with obvious interest.

"I don't know. And I don't know if we should continue to investigate," Malak said with caution and a hint of fear. "Dorak was concerned—I think he left out some information about what he found. He said anyone entering the ruins might well be exiled and banned from the Order."

"Well, only if they were caught," I said with a smirk. Malak gave me a shocked stare.

"It is not wise to go against the Council in this," he said gravely. "They know something we do not."

I studied him a moment—his trepidation was genuine. So he really was sincerely trying to be a good boy. I smiled to myself; this was going to be a delicious revenge.

"If there is something as dangerous as they believe hidden there, I say we get it and keep it safe here at the academy. There may be a Force barrier now, but one day someone will figure out the right combination of explosives to get in and misuse what they find." Malak considered my argument. "Think about it—if we secretly move it from there, where everyone knows its location, no one will know where to look for it, and it won't ever be used against the Jedi or the Republic."

"That does make sense," he said slowly. "Or we could destroy it too, to make sure."

"Yes, either way, we would be helping," I grinned. "And I am curious, I admit it."

"Me too, after all I have done to try to find out about it, I would hate to never know. Still…" he wavered. "Dorak was insistent. No one should enter the ruins, for any reason."

"Come on, Malak, they will thank us after it is done. I have a plan. We continue with this ruse of fight practice. We keep the students engaged in their studies, and they will soon forget all about the ruins…and then the masters will let their guard down. We just need to bide our time, play along. I am sure we can break that seal. We are strong in the Force, we will find a way around it. We just need to wait for the right time to act."

"I don't know," he winced. "Do you think we can fool the entire Council?"

"We can do this, you and me, right? We are a team. We can't be beat," I said to him with eager exuberance. A smile slipped across his lips as he looked back at me. There was peace in his eyes, a contentment he had not known since that day. I could not help but grin.

"Yeah, Rev, we are a team, you and me," he beamed.


	32. Chapter 32

Many thanks for everyone who has stuck with me so far. I will finish this, I promise!

* * *

The first few shots missed, but that last one singed her right lekku. Mission dove for the only nearby cover available in the hangar: some neatly stacked footlockers and various storage containers. She was furious for being caught like this—outsmarted by Ordo, of all people, in _her_ area of expertise. She glanced at the security cameras: the rapidly blinking lights on them indicated the devices were off-line…which meant the images displayed on the terminals were being supplied from somewhere else. _Now_ she realized the camera feed of the Hawk was a fake, but she should have figured it out sooner. How did Canderous manage that? How did he even think of it? How'd he get in here anyway if Carth deactivated the passcard and instructed T3 to ignore the big chuba-face? Mission had too many questions she wanted answers for, but a ricocheted bolt near her foot brought her back to the current predicament. She'd have to wait to find out how he managed all this—she honestly didn't think the old Mandalorian had it in him.

She peered around the boxes. Jolee was still near the bay door, his hand outstretched towards a small group of Sith troopers. They seemed to slow down, but not completely stop. He then closed in on them, his green lightsaber a blur. She quickly looked away, and saw Bastila with her yellow-hued staff twirling about, deflecting blaster fire while taking on a dark Jedi. Mission scanned the room and found Juhani, who had made it the furthest in to the hangar: she was single-minded in her attack. She was heading for Canderous, ignoring everything and everyone along the way. Canderous blasted away at her, but missed each time. He ended up doing more damage to his own side: troopers fell en mass on either side of Juhani as his cannon firecontinued dancing around her.

More soldiers and Jedi poured from the hold and rumbled down the ramp. Mission sheathed her vibroblade and unholstered the small blaster Jiara had given to her back on Taris. She aimed at the loading ramp; Canderous was in her sights, but she couldn't do it. She moved slightly and picked off a trooper as he stepped into the docking area. Mission ducked back down and leaned against the footlockers.

"Hey," she breathed, studying the containers. "This looks like mine!" In fact, she recognized all the boxes and lockers. "This is our stuff! It's all here except for Canderous's and…"

She peeked up again towards the ship, looking into the windows of the cockpit and along the visible side of the crew quarters. Her breathed sucked in sharply as she made out the unmistakable form peering through the window. "Not gonna happen!" she vowed under her breath. She crawled to the side of the furthest footlocker and took aim: another shot, another Sith down, but the path to the Hawk was far from clear. She instinctively reached to her stealth belt, but there were just too many Sith to try to sneak past, not to mention Ordo blocking the foot of the boarding ramp. She lined up her pistol and fired rapidly at just about everything, but the barrage alerted them to her position; blaster bolts hailed down around her. Without warning, a grenade sailed over the containers. Mission turned and watched it roll to a stop at her feet.

Jolee busied himself with a small group of troopers who had been standing guard off to the left of the door. He slowed them down and began to drop them with two-handed swings of his saber. He looked up at Bastila as she engaged a Sith Jedi—master by the looks of him. Jolee sent a wave of energy at the man, who seemed to be getting the better of Bastila. He was stunned for a moment—enough time for Bastila to connect with both sides of her saber-staff in a master flurry.

"We are gonna need back-up," he said to her as they watched more Sith flood from the Hawk and swarm around Canderous. "Okay, so how many did they pack onto the ship? I felt crowded with just us!" he yelped in disbelief.

"Hopefully the port authorities will send their guards," Bastila shouted back to him over the din of blaster fire and the buzz of their sabers. "They must know of the trouble by now!" she said as she took up an attack on an approaching trooper. Jolee did the same. "I'll flank to the right," Bastila offered.

Jolee nodded. "I'll go left…Juhani went right up the center, as usual. Fool girl. Can you see her?"

"No, but if you see Canderous, I am sure you will find her," Bastila called back as she began to slice her way to the right side of the hangar. A grenade blast sounded somewhere behind her; she felt a slight push from the explosion, but she was too preoccupied with battle to take notice.

Her prey was within striking range; Juhani leapt up, both her lightsabers braced for a power assault. Neither one missed; the dark Jedi before her crumpled into a motionless heap at her feet. Juhani jumped lightly over him and continued towards Canderous. Even more Sith appeared from behind him, an endless stream of enemies rushing down the Hawk's boarding ramp. But Juhani barely acknowledged them; her eyes were locked on Canderous. He too had trained his stare at her. She deflected his cannon blasts with ease.

"You are mine, Mandalorian!" she shrieked as she closed in on him. "For Cathar!" she cried as she bounded upwards, another power attack in the making. Juhani tried to position herself in a way to defend against his cannon's aim, her sabers crossed in front of her to deflect any shots.

"Not today, sister!" Canderous yelled back at her.

Instead of taking aim to shoot, Canderous took hold of his repeater and swung it like a bat at Juhani's legs. The motion was unexpected and caught her in mid-leap, throwing her off balance. As she tried to regain control in mid air, Canderous hammered her in the ribs. The wind knocked from her lungs, and the sabers from her hands. He quickly kicked away the hilt that landed next to him; Juhani landed on her hip and floundered to a graceless stop.

She struggled quickly to gain her feet and held up her palm at Canderous; but he was already on her, his right fist swinging. She saw it too late to avoid and tried to deflect the blow aimed at her chin. She thought at first he had somehow missed, but the punch landed lower, in her ribs, the same spot already tender from the earlier contact. Canderous had redirected his attack—he had feinted to her face, and when she defended, he went low to his intended mark. She caved in to her left side, her ribcage crushed. Wounded and without her weapons, she was no match for him. She had never seen him in hand-to-hand combat, but she should have realized he would have been a master at it. She had not met him with the respect he was due on the battlefield. In the farthest corner of her mind, she had the nagging feeling that her miscalculation was deliberate; she had held back against him, and her mercy would cost her.

"Sloppy, Juhani," he sneered at her. "You're better than that."

"Do your worst, Mandalorian scum!" she spit. Again she raised her hand at him and began to draw the Force to her. Canderous swatted her arm aside, then crashed down on her collarbone with his elbow. She felt her right shoulder slump and her arm fall useless and numb as the snapping sound echoed in her ear. With her left arm, she began to push herself up from the floor, a task made all the more difficult by the blistering pain shooting from her ribs.

"Stay down, dammit!" he yelled at her, planting his boot in her stomach and pushing her back to the ground. A blaster shot ricocheted near her head. Canderous reeled around and pinpointed the shooter. "This is MY fight!" he shouted, punctuating his words with a single sniper shot. The offending trooper folded into a bloody lump and slid down the ramp. Taking the hint, the rest of the contingent herded away; they had better targets anyways. Republic soldiers began to filter through the docking bay door.

Bastila was completely winded; the endless barrage of Sith was taking its toll. Her reserve of Force energy was just about depleted, used primarily for healing herself from the stray blaster wounds she suffered, and she was simply unable to focus on drawing more power to her. The darkness was oppressive, surrounding her, beckoning, making it difficult to find what little light remained in the area. She struggled to resist the invitation, but it was so tempting. The amount of energy there, waiting to be used…she could easily end this battle quickly. She could practically feel the warmth of the electricity streaming from her finger tips in bright branches of lightning. She knew she could control it, bend it to her will to do as she desired…and she desired to end this fight. How was that wrong? How was that of the dark side? Just a small amount, a slight touch into the vast source around her; that was all she needed. That did not mean she was falling, or giving in; she was just being smart. Using their own tactics and Force power against them was a delicious irony, and the thought of giving them a taste of their own medicine made her smile. Why hadn't she thought of this sooner? Why cling to a fading light? Dark energy swirled around her. This was madness to disregard the advantages it offered…simply because of a childish fear based in ignorance. So a group of old fools made an edict without ever knowing what they preached against, and everyone is expected to listen to it? She had experience with the dark side, she knew how to manipulate it, understood its power and the abilities it granted. She could take down everyone before another shot was fired, before they even knew what happened. This was for the best. Why could only she see that? This was the answer, and it was so clear, so obvious.

And so wrong.

Bastila suddenly found herself again and centered her mind on her teachings. The darkness here was amazingly persuasive; it seemed to speak directly to her heart, and in her weary state, it was difficult to fight it off. She tried to block it as she spied a group of Sith gathering to the side of the ship who had not noticed her. Just as she made for them, she heard the hangar doors unlock and slide apart. It was with tremendous relief that she realized reinforcements had arrived. The mass of troopers she had been heading towards thinned away as they regrouped and directed their efforts towards the Republic soldiers near the hangar doorway. Rather than follow, she darted for some storage cylinders and ducked behind them to rest and catch her breath.

The constant fighting made minutes seem like hours. From her vantage point, she saw far fewer dead and wounded on the ground than she had imagined there would be. Surely she had fought more than that! She counted maybe thirty Sith total still fighting, some ten or so on the floor, wounded or worse. Carbon scoring and scorch marks were everywhere, and the smell of spent plasma burned in the air. Bastila leaned back, breathing hard, choking a bit at the smoke that filled her lungs. They were outnumbered, ten-to-one, so it was understandable she would feel so overwhelmed. The echoing noise in the small hangar, the acrid discharge from the blasters, the smell of melting durasteel and burning flesh…combined with the darkness all made her head swim in total confusion. She looked around to the other side, searching for Jolee; through the smoke and crowd, she could not spot him. She turned her attention towards the ship, hoping to see Juhani.

She was unprepared for the sight that greeted her.

Canderous hovered over a listless form that lay crumpled at his feet. Bastila concentrated harder on his victim: a distinctive spray of beaded hair had fallen loose from its usual ponytail and draped haphazardly across the face. Canderous nudged the body with the toe of his boot, then began to bend down towards the figure.

"No!" Bastila yelled out.

Canderous stood and briefly turned in her direction: Juhani's limp form dangled helplessly in his arms. Bastila summoned her strength and sent a stasis wave in his direction, but there wasn't enough power left in her. Canderous ignored her, shifted direction, and tossed Juhani out of his way, beyond Bastila's field of vision.

Horrified, Bastila sprang from her cover and charged at the Mandalorian.


	33. Chapter 33

Another flashback! Thanks to everyone for reading and reviewing. I enjoy all your comments and they encourage me to keep going. That said, the next chapter _might_ be a little bit longer in coming. Real Life (TM) stinks.

* * *

I took cover as I heard the rustling behind me. Even in the fading light of the day, I was able to recognize him. He crouched along awkwardly, as if he thought he could move silently and undetected. But there was nothing stealthy about him, especially in _that_. I stepped out from my hiding spot, nearly startling him. "Malak, what are you doing?" I asked with angered disappointment.

"You said to meet you out on the plains at dusk," he said slowly with slight confusion.

"I mean with that outfit!" I hissed pointing to his ridiculous high-collared costume.

"Well, you are wearing yours," he said pointing to the dark robe and cloak he had given to me.

"Yes, to conceal myself—we aren't supposed to be out here, remember? If I am seen, no one can say for sure who it was. But you…you manage to stick out even more in that thing!" I grumbled. Malak slumped a bit.

"Oh, well, too late now. Besides, there is nothing I can put on that would properly disguise me," he sighed. "I am certain no one saw me. The students are too busy studying, and the Masters are in the practice arena making last minute preparations for the show tomorrow. I think they are brushing up on their skills too…I TOLD you Vandar knew you let him win."

"He better practice. Our rematch will be tougher than the first duel three months ago," I warned as we began to walk through the tall grass.

"What about letting the Master win in his own school?"

"I am tired of this backwater academy, and after tomorrow, I intend never to set foot here again. So tonight is our last chance--we have to get in," I grumbled.

The ruins came into view as we rounded a small outcropping of stones. The last of the day faded from the sky. Malak ignited his light saber; the blue glow danced across the sealed doorway.

"Stand guard, I am going to meditate. I almost had it last time, I know what needs to be done to get this damn door opened," I growled as I knelt before the door.

I dropped into a deep meditation; I could feel the energy all around me; dark side power. I resisted it before once I found it here. But I knew now I needed to tap into that source if I wanted to be strong enough to break the Force shield placed here by the forgotten ancient Jedi. I reached out for it carefully, wishing to take only enough to serve my purpose. But the contact flooded me; I felt a surge of power fill my mind and body. Even with my supposed masterful command of the Force, I had never known such a sensation. I was delirious with the effect: all things were possible; I could not be denied any desire. I concentrated on the door; in mere moments, I had vaporized the barrier. The door fell open with nothing more than a thought. I opened my eyes and smiled at my results. Reluctantly, I released the power. It seemed to linger, but I finally felt it ebb away. I was strangely hollow once it departed.

"You did it!" Malak cried enthusiastically. I heard him take a deep breath, a gasp-like rattle. "Can you feel that? The cold, the dark…"

I stood and looked ahead into the nothingness of the entry. The darkness called, beckoned me forward. "Come on," I said without looking back at him. The darkness engulfed me; he had not followed. "Malak, what are you waiting for?" I called back to him. Finally a soft blue beam appeared.

"I really don't think we should be here. Dorak was right. There is an evil energy here. And from the looks of things, it was a temple after all," he said moving his blade around to shed light on the room.

I ignored him and moved deeper into the area, finding another door. This one was not sealed; it opened freely. The next room had its own light source from above. An old droid stirred to life as we approached. I reached for my saber hilt, but the droid only studied us and emitted a series of strange sounds in a language unfamiliar to me.

"Did you catch that?" I asked Malak, not taking my eyes off the machine.

"You are the language expert," he shot back as an answer.

"Maybe it wasn't a language. This thing looks old, probably broken just sitting down here all this time," I wondered out loud. I glanced around: a few dusty piles of remains were near some doors to the left and right. The droid spoke again; this time it caught my attention.

"That sounded like Selkath, but off," Malak said.

"It asked us if the builders sent us," I explained.

"Builders? What, of this temple?" Malak asked looking around.

"You wear the sacred raiment of the Builders," the droid continued "but you are not the Builders, nor are you the slaves." Malak and I looked at each other, at the robes he had made for us. So that old etching, the pictograph Malak had found did have something to do with these ruins. The architecture did seem familiar as I looked around the chamber.

"What did the text say about that temple scene?" I whispered to him. Malak seemed to think with all his might.

"It said the engraving was found past Malachor V in the Outer Rim; some experts thought it supported a wild theory, something about a legendary Infinite Empire," he offered. "I think that's what it said…" he added weakly. I glared at him. "Hey, I saw these cool clothes, and, well…" he shrugged sheepishly. I shook my head; he really, truly was an idiot. Image was all that mattered to him. But for once, maybe I could turn his fumbling into an advantage.

"Just follow my lead," I slipped softly to him. I turned to the ancient machine, addressing it loudly. "We come from the Builders of the Infinite Empire. We are here to check on this remote outpost. It has been a while since the Builders have been here, they seek a status report. We wear the symbol of their authority so you may recognize us."

"You must prove yourself worthy before you are given the knowledge of the Star Forge," the droid answered.

"The Star Forge?" Malak blurted before I could stop him. He earned yet another castigating glare from me…was he going for some record tonight?

"Yes, the Star Forge, the pinnacle of achievement of the Builders. It is the glory of their knowledge. Only those worthy may know of it."

"We are ready to prove ourselves," I answered quickly. Now it was Malak who gave me a look of astonishment and dread.

"Once you have passed the test, the door will be unsealed. That which you seek lies beyond," the ancient machine whirled around, indicating a doorway behind it.

"If we are not deemed worthy?" Malak asked.

"Then you die."

"Great," he mumbled as he followed me to the left-hand door.

The test was not as difficult as the guardian droid that attacked us on sight. We made short work of the machine and I quickly answered the questions asked of me at the old computer terminal. I was amazed the interface was compatible with my current technology; it readily accepted my datapad, and moments later, it was communicating in Basic. We then moved to the right-hand room to repeat the process.

"Was that it?" Malak asked as we headed back to the main room. "That was the big test? That was nothing!" he boasted.

"Because I was answering the questions. At least one of us paid attention in class," I chided.

"That wasn't all that tough of a question," he shot back.

"Well, that is true, but the answers sure gave you a rough time. Arboreal is NOT a death environment. You don't know what that word means, do you?" I teased as I looked back. I did not get the chance to fully enjoy his discomfort. As I looked to him and away from my path, I stumbled over some debris on the floor. I cursed sharply as I spun back to kick the offending pile of trash. That was when I realized what I had tripped on was actually the remains of some unworthy applicant for the secrets of the Star Forge. The bones were nearly reduced to powder, the clothing dusty and tattered. But one item remained curiously untouched by time. I reached down and picked up the smooth metallic mask.

"Disgusting," Malak grunted. I brushed off the dust and webs, uncovering a fearsome design in black and red etched into the smooth surface. I held it up to my face as I looked at Malak.

"How's this?" I asked. My voice reverberated with a mechanical buzz as it escaped through the small opening near my lips. Malak shuddered.

"That thing is scary. Put it back…I mean, it didn't do him any good," he said dismissively pointing to the bone pile. I pressed it closer; the narrow slit at the eyes provided an amazing amount of visual area. The mask seemed to be a perfect fit. I fastened it under the cloak hood. Malak viewed me mournfully. I tried to hide my smirk, but then realized with the mask, he could not see me smiling at his sadness. My grin widened further.

The ancient droid said nothing as we approached the door at the back of the chamber. It unlocked and fell open with a touch. Malak peered cautiously inside as I marched through undeterred. We found ourselves in yet another anteroom, a single door ahead of us. The dark side was oppressive in this chamber. I thought on how it had nearly overtaken me at the main entry, where its influence was not as great. I halted my progress, thinking, reconsidering. I began to pace, unsure of my next move.

"The dark side is strong in this place," Malak announced as he moved closer to the door. He appeared to drink it in. "I can feel its power!" He seemed to regain his composure as he watched me approach the door. "Is this wise? The ancient Jedi sealed this archway. If we pass beyond this door, we can never go back," he cautioned.

He was right, I knew he was. But this wasn't about right or wrong. It wasn't even about what I wanted; it was about what he did not want. He did not want to see me self-destruct because of what he had done; he did not want me to throw away my training, my life, my existence because of him. But it was too late; I was already undone, unmade. There was no going back; not back to the Council or to the way I was.

"The Order will surely banish us," he intoned sadly as I activated the final seal.

The panel fell away to reveal a metal structure placed unceremoniously in the center of the room. Without hesitation I made my way towards it. I felt as if I were being drawn to it. Malak hung back a moment before following, still pleading with me.

"Are the secrets of the Star Forge so valuable? Can its power truly be worth the risk?" he asked as he came to stand alongside me.

The arms of the structure opened like a blossom. A small orb floated from the base and displayed a detailed dimensional star chart. We both studied it in silence for a moment.

"This can't be it," Malak said at last. He seemed almost relieved, that we had avoided some terrible fate.

"No, it is a navigational chart," I pointed out. "Look, these are planets, that's Manaan…maybe that's why that droid knew Selkath?" I wondered. "But this thing is corrupted, whole quadrants are missing."

"Yeah, that looks like Tatooine, and Kashyyyk," he said moving around the display.

"And Korriban, the Sith planet," I said staring at the small reddish-brown sphere hanging in the field of projected stars.

"So this is nothing, then," he said. "This isn't a Star Forge, and I know there isn't anything like that on any of those planets."

"But maybe there is another map like this one, a Star Map hiding on those worlds with more information."

"Maybe, but so what? We have no way of getting there without explaining what we are up to," he shrugged. "I am glad this thing is so worthless. We don't have to tell the masters we were here. Besides, I don't know how we would get it back to the enclave, or how we would destroy it if it had been a danger to the Republic," he sighed.

"It isn't worthless, Malak," I said as I took out my datapad and downloaded the map. "All those dead sentients rotting in the outer rooms wanted this. I think we need to learn what is out there, waiting to be found."

"Let's just leave an anonymous tip with the Republic, let them deal with it then," he offered.

"No, this is up to us—we were the only ones able to get this far, right? This is our destiny, Malak, this is what the Force has in store for us, why we are a team," I appealed to his vanity. "We will discover this Star Forge and save the galaxy from it, or even maybe use it for the good of the Republic somehow." Malak seemed lost in thought; I could see him considering the parade he would receive upon being hailed a hero.

"We still have no means of traveling to these other planets in secret. Our every move is carefully watched by the Council," he protested.

"Then we leave their critical eye. I think it is time we acted on your proposal, Malak…we will join the war effort against the Mandalorians."

"What does that have to do with this?" he asked in complete confusion.

"Here is the plan," I explained, my thoughts rushing to me in excitement. "We wait until another devastating defeat is handed to the Republic, and that will not be long in the making. We decry this wanton destruction of life and disregard for civilization and insist the Council act… which we know they will not. We then recruit as many Jedi as possible to our noble cause: the more, the better, so we avoid rousing suspicion and we will get lost in the throng of deserting members. Then we go off and join the war. Under the Republic, we will have access to ships and transports, and we will not need to answer to anyone when we wish to travel anywhere." Malak's eyes began to dance with anticipation and appreciation for the scheme.

"Yes, we would be doing two good deeds at once—halting the war and finding this artifact. That is perfect!" he shouted. "But do you think the Republic will listen to us, let us lead them so completely? They have one plan from you, and like you said, they do not know who you are…"

"This mask will hide me well enough—they will listen to my plans and tactics. And you will be at my side, Malak, to make sure it happens."

"I will be there, Revan, I will always be there," he swore solemnly.

As if he had a choice, I thought.


End file.
